


Suitcase of Memories

by Klari



Series: Time After Time [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Arthurian myth, Badass goblins, Cheesy Music, F/M, Fluff, Hermione Granger Bashing, He’s really bad, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), REALLY slow, Severus Snape Lives, Slow Burn, So is Neville, but they’re 14, time-travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 82,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klari/pseuds/Klari
Summary: A time-travel fix-it type story in which the wolf falls for the moon, the brewer falls for the grower, and the one who never had a childhood falls for the one who never grew up. Other relationships will happen, but first they’ll need to learn about some spectacular betrayals. The dead, who aren’t so dead, have been taking advantage of the survivors. Myths wander over and through the British magical world once again. Basically, Dumbledore is really creepy, Neville is King Arthur, and Sirius looks tasty in a leather jacket. The story begins a few short months after the war, and then, things get wild.*Note: although completely unimportant to plot or 99% of the story, Fred Weasley lives. Because that’s how it should’ve happened.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Remus Lupin, Marauders & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Series: Time After Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173404
Comments: 101
Kudos: 256





	1. If you got the money, honey, we got your disease

**Author's Note:**

> The story is told in three parts, all of which are sketched out. The first part is completed, so I’ll be posting a couple chapters a week, at least, as I write the second. I’ll post the second only once it’s complete, and write the third. Ideally, there will be no long waits between updates, but life happens.  
> The timeline for this first part is July/Aug 1998; Jan 1975–Jun1976  
> Trigger warnings will show up at the beginning of the chapters they relate to, but there won’t be too many. This isn’t going to be super angsty. Harry does have some issues with flashbacks and PTSD (because come on— he was in a war!), but I’ll warn you before those things show up.  
> There may be typos, sorry. I have no beta reader or proofreader, so we’re flying without a net. Let me know if you find goofs. I’ll be embarrassed, but glad to correct myself.  
> And with that, I do not own Harry Potter and make zero money from this endeavor.

Harry Potter walked through Diagon Alley trying not to show the monumental case of nerves he was currently dealing with. The sweat was starting to gather and his heart rate had certainly picked up. He hadn’t even been this nervous breaking into the Lestranges vault. That he now had to own up to the consequences was giving him a serious case of the heebies. 

“Luna, are you sure?” He asked, trying once again to convince her to leave him to do this on his own. “They aren’t going to be happy.” 

“I’m sure, Harry.” Luna smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “I’m coming. You’ll need me.” 

“All right, then.” That didn’t seem too promising, but Harry squared his shoulders and strengthened his resolve. Goblins were fierce. He remembered all too well the words of their welcoming poem.  _ Thief you have been warned, beware _ . The nerves seemed to coalesce in his stomach as the pair approached the large white building with the hole in the roof. 

“Oh.” Harry’s voice sounded strange to his own ears. “They haven’t fixed it yet.”

Ron and Hermione had left for Australia after the last of the funerals. Harry both wished they were there with him for this and was glad they were not. Ron would never be able to help with the repayment, he was sure that he’d need to offer and would only feel guilty about his lack of funds. Hermione would either treat the goblins like little children who needed her protection, or start quoting laws and statutes at them. Either way, the goblins would probably end up offended. His friend didn’t have the best track record in dealing with creatures. Nevertheless, he missed them. It would have been nice to have their company on this trip to the bank, same as he had on his last, disastrous visit. 

Harry and Luna had reached the steps of the bank. Taking a firm grip of Luna’s hand, and holding his head up, Harry marched up the steps and through the doors. All the work of the bank stopped as he passed over the threshold, and every goblin looked up to stare at him. The silence was thick around the bank for a full minute before whispers started up as the wizards and witches began pointing at him.  _ Chosen one. Killed You-Know-Who. Broke into the bank. A dragon! Broke out of here. Hole in the ceiling.  _ The goblins were still staring at him. Harry took hold of his courage with both hands. 

“I should like to speak to a goblin or a representative of the goblin nation regarding reparations for my recent actions during the second wizarding war.” 

Luna squeezed his hand. He hoped he had managed to sound both respectful as well as firm. His statement caused another flurry of whispers, and even more importantly, the low rumbling sound of gobbledegook. He watched as the goblin’s faces revealed nothing of their thoughts, waiting for someone to step forward, or to be thrown bodily from the bank, or possibly his arrest and torture in the goblin mines. He had heard horror stories a-plenty thanks to Bill Weasley. 

Harry watched as the goblins seemed to be arguing about something. There was a lot of back and forth before finally, a goblin he recognized stepped forward. Griphook stood in front of him, his eyes gleaming with both greed and resentment. He had, apparently, lost the argument regarding who should speak to him. Griphook nodded politely to Luna, before turning to lead the way into the goblin tunnels. “Follow, Harry Potter,” he grunted as though he couldn’t care less whether Harry actually followed him or not. 

Harry did manage to stumble forward and followed Griphook into either a small conference room or a rather large office. It was bare, save one table and a variety of beautiful and deadly weapons lining the walls. Harry was nearly distracted by a pair of silver throwing stars, engraved with constellations and runes. He couldn’t read them, of course, but they were remarkable works of art all the same. Luna jabbed him in the side with her elbow. Right. 

“Goblin Griphook,” Harry began, rather awkwardly. “As I mentioned in the lobby, I know I have done Gringotts Bank a disservice. I wish to make amends to the bank, and to offer you personally my apologies if my actions brought you dishonor among your fellows.” Bill had told him that goblins value good manners and directness. He hoped fervently that he had managed both. He decided to add a low bow, just in case. 

“You are a very strange wizard, Harry Potter.” Griphook was still looking grim. A silence fell over the three in the room. Harry really wanted to roll his eyes. He was a strange wizard? Yes. He knew this. Hadn’t this goblin told him that enough times during the planning stage at Shell Cottage? “You were a respectful 11-year-old, too.” Harry rose from his bow. He wondered if he ought to say anything. 

“I saw then, and still see, no reason to be disrespectful.” He wondered where this was headed. “My actions earlier in the year were not about disrespect toward the Goblin Nation, only desperation to end the threat of Voldemort.” Griphook harrumphed. Harry felt he’d better lay it on thick. “If the goblins of Gringotts would prepare a list of damages and the related charges, including the cost of the dragon, I would like to begin making repayments.” There, he’d been direct and respectful, was offering gold, and hadn’t made any promises, just stated a desire. Griphook raised an eyebrow at him, clearly reading all those intents. 

“The goblins of Gringotts will begin the list” Griphook tapped a rune carved into the table and indicated for them to take a seat. Harry goggled a moment, watching as three chairs grew out of the stone floor. Harry and Luna sat on one side, facing Griphook. Harry determined to wait; he had caused rather a lot of damage, perhaps the list was a long one. 

“Harry Potter would like to take an inheritance test” Luna’s voice was as ethereal as ever, but clear and definitely audible in the stony silence of the meeting room. 

“He would? I mean… I would? What’s that?” Harry was off his game slightly. 

“An inheritance test as performed by a Gringotts goblin reveals your direct ancestors and includes any titles or vaults you may be eligible to claim.” 

Harry nodded at Griphook in thanks for the information, but turned to Luna. “Lu, I don’t need one. I know who my parents are, and I have the vault they left me.” 

“You do need one, Harry. I know you do.” Luna looked so sincere, he felt guilty for doubting her.

“It’s important?” Harry asked. He wasn’t sure why he was balking at the idea of the inheritance test. It would show him that he inherited his vault and that his parents were Lily and James. What else could it show? 

“Very important.” Luna looked up at Griphook. “Take the fee for the test from the Lovegood vault.” She turned back to Harry and gripped his arm tightly. He needed this. “Harry, you’re crawling with wrackspurts.”

“Those are the ones that make the brain go fuzzy, right?” Luna beamed at him and nodded. He felt glad he remembered that. “And the test will get rid of them?”

Luna’s nod was a little more hesitant this time. “Most of these ones, yes.” Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he trusted Luna. She had always been a friend. 

“Okay then. Griphook, I would also like to have an inheritance test.” 

Griphook, who had been looking between the two as though watching a tennis match, grunted swiftly in agreement, and pulled a piece of parchment from a drawer under the table, which Harry hadn’t noticed before now. “Lay your wand hand on the parchment and leave it there till the letters stop forming.”

Harry placed his right hand over the parchment as directed and felt a strong sting slashing across his palm. He looked up sharply at Griphook, but didn’t move his hand, even when he saw that blood was spreading beyond his fingertips in slow but steady ribbons outward to form words: 

Inheritance test for Harrison James Potter, 1980-07-31, Godric’s Hollow, UK

-Sire: James Fleamont Potter

-Bearer: Lily Grace Potter, née Evans

-Godparents: Sirius Orion Black, Alice Susanna Longbottom, née Fortesque 

-Godson: Theodore Remus Lupin

Title Acquisition Vault(s)

Potter

| 

Lord; Paternal bloodline

| 

Vault 687 heir trust vault; Vault 677-703 coin, portraits, artifacts, books  
  
---|---|---  
  
Black

| 

Lord; Lordship grant

| 

Vaults 328-340 Coin, family relics, portraits, books; Vault 711Sirius Black’s personal vault coin   
  
Aquitaine

| 

Lord; Maternal bloodline

| 

Vaults 622-658 held in French branch of Gringotts  
  
Poitiers

| 

Lord; Maternal bloodline

| 

Vaults 405-500 held in French branch of Gringotts  
  
Gaunt

| 

Lord; Conquest

| 

Vault 428, coin and records  
  
Iceni

| 

Lord; Maternal bloodline

| 

Vault 294-309 Coin, weaponry, family relics, books  
  
Peverell

| 

Lord; Paternal bloodline; conquest

| 

Vault 120 coin; Vault 125 portraits artifacts (dangerous); Vault 145 books  
  
Gryffindor

| 

Lord; Paternal bloodline

| 

Vault 21 portraits books records; Vault 22 weapons; Vault 23 coin  
  
Slytherin

| 

Lord; Conquest

| 

Vault 18 portraits, artifacts; Vault 19 coin; Vault 20 books and records  
  
Emrys

| 

Lord; Magical grant

| 

Vault 10 artifacts; Vault 11 coin  
  
Mors

| 

Lord; Magical accomplishment

| 

Vault 1 gateway; Vault 2 coin; Vault 3 artifacts;   
  
Lupin

| 

Regent; held till bloodline heir reaches majority

| 

Vault 744-746 Coin, family records, portraits; Note: Approval necessary for Vault access.  
  
Harry read through the document slowly. His mind was spinning, and he couldn’t seem to form a decent sentence. At several points he opened his mouth as though to ask a question, but closed it without speaking. Finally, he looked up at Luna, who was watching him closely with a worried expression on her usually calm face. “Are you okay, Harry?” 

“Mrs. Longbottom is my godmother.” He replied, not sure whether he was okay or not. He handed her the piece of parchment with a question in his face. “Nev is my godbrother.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a real term, but I know he’d like that.” Luna smiled at him. “Whatever happens, it’ll be better to know all this than not.” She looked down at the spidery letters that spelled out more power and money than anyone else in the magical world. She handed the parchment over to the waiting goblin, whose eyes widened as he got to the bottom of the page. 

Before the goblin could comment on the page in front of him, a flash of light burst in front of him and a second document floated down to the table. He glanced at the accounting of the break-in, but decided that confirming the Lordships listed on the inheritance test was more important. He tapped twice on the inheritance test and 11 small boxes appeared on the table in front of him. He looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. 

“These are the symbols of the various lordships you are entitled to claim. Please note that the titles are not yours until these rings have accepted your magic and granted you their own. Do you wish to claim all these titles?”

“Um, I’m not one hundred percent sure. What responsibilities would go with it?” Harry has had enough surprises for the day. He wasn’t going to do anything without fully knowing the consequences first. 

Griphook smiled widely at Harry, hiding his teeth, in approval. Goblins believe in caution and deliberation, especially in matters of finance and lordship. “Your rights and responsibilities will differ house by house, but in general, you are expected to act as head of the family, which means approving or not any new alliances, particularly weddings and bondings, and providing a certain amount of financial support to any family members. As most of these lines are dead but for you, I don’t believe it would be an additional hardship. You are the last Potter. The remaining Blacks include Andromeda Tonks and her grandson Theodore Lupin and Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco. Andromeda was disowned, Narcissa given her dowry vault, Theodore is already in your care, and Draco has chosen the Malfoy lordship over his House Black ties, therefore is ineligible to receive funds. The Aquitaine and Poitiers lines are tied with the muggle royal family, but per the Statute of Secrecy, naturally, you would have no control over their lives—”

“Wait a moment, please, Griphook,” Harry interrupted. “It says that’s a maternal line. But my mother was a muggleborn, and certainly not from the royal family. How is that possible?” 

“Your mother was not a muggleborn. Both her parents were squibs. Her mother carried the lines of Aquitaine and Poitiers, and her father is a direct line descendant of Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni. She certainly was royal, though no one knew it.” Griphook looked at Harry carefully. “Shall I continue?” 

“Yes, sorry I interrupted.” 

“No matter. The Gaunt, Peverell, and Slytherin lines had one other heir, until last month, when you defeated him and laid claim to the titles. You are the last with Gryffindor blood.” 

“So, in claiming these titles, I would take on no new responsibilities over others?” 

“You would not.” Griphook folded his hands, quietly waiting on Harry’s decision. 

“Okay. I’ll do it, then.” 

Griphook smiled, and started passing the small boxes, one at a time, and in the order they appeared on the inheritance test. Harry looked up for instructions. “Slip each ring onto a forefinger. It does not matter which.” 

Harry started putting the rings on his left hand. At first, he felt a warmth building in his magic, almost like being welcomed home after a day out in the cold. This continued until the Gaunt ring, which put up a bit of a fight. It felt oily and slick, and he had to bring his own magic forcefully to the front to subdue it. The Slytherin ring also put up a fight, but this was sharp and sly; he felt he had to earn this ring’s loyalty, not subdue it in battle. He again brought his magic to the fore, but rather than a battle, it was an evaluation. He was breathing hard by the time it found him worthy. 

He hesitated at the Emrys and Mors rings. He looked carefully at both of them, and decided that they would go on his right hand. He slid the Emrys ring out of its box. It was solid gold, and engraved in obsidian on the face was a set of three linked spirals, arranged in a triangle, with a gemstone at the center of each: a diamond, a ruby, and an emerald. He put it on. It felt neither welcoming nor combative, but powerful. An intense wave of magical power washed over him and left him feeling charged. The Mors ring was the opposite. It was silver, with the symbol of the Hallows on it, the cape set in moonstone, the wand in obsidian, and the stone in amethyst. It felt cold and inevitable and utterly self-assured. The two rings combined and settled onto his finger as though they had always rested there. He looked up at Griphook, who was watching closely. 

“Well done, Young Lord.” Griphook offered uncharacteristic congratulations, before passing the next document to the new Lord-many-times-over. 

Invoice for Actions of 1 May 1998, issued to Harrison James Potter, Lord Potter Black Aquitaine Poitiers Gaunt Iceni Peverell Gryffindor Slytherin Emrys Mors

Damage Cost

Imperius curse used within Gringotts territory

| 

ʛ 500, per goblin; ʛ 200 per wizard, totalling ʛ 1.200  
  
---|---  
  
Confundus placed upon Gringotts personnel

| 

ʛ 500 per goblin; ʛ 200 per wizard, totalling ʛ 400  
  
Unauthorized entry to Vault 377, Lestrange

| 

ʛ 500, per wizard, totalling ʛ 1.500  
  
Flagrante curse activated

| 

ʛ 100  
  
Geminio curse activated

| 

ʛ 100  
  
Removal of artifact from Vault 377, Lestrange

| 

ʛ 8.280, approximate cost of item at last auction  
  
Removal of dragon

| 

ʛ 13.000, or replacement  
  
Structural damage caused by dragon claw and flame

| 

ʛ 22.760  
  
Total damages owed Gringotts Bank: ʛ 47.340

Harry looked up at Griphook. He wondered how much he was actually worth. He knew he held a lot of titles, but maybe they were all like the Gaunt family, which held a title but hadn’t had two sickles to rub together. He nodded, accepting the charges as fair. 

“Griphook,” he began carefully, “How can I find out what all these vaults hold. Do I have to visit all of them?” 

“Self-updating account books are available for a fee.” Griphook answered. 

“I would like to purchase a self-updating account book for every vault that can afford the fee.” Harry didn’t want to incur a fee that his vaults couldn’t cover. He was in enough debt as it was. Griphook again gave another closed-mouth smile to Harry, approving of his caution in financial matters, and in another flash of light, a large stack of folders appeared. Griphook passed Harry the folder from the top of the pile. 

Harry’s eyes almost fell out of his head. The first sheet of parchment within the suddenly quite thick portfolio folder showed the main Potter account currently held a balance of well over ʛ 600.000. He didn’t stop to consider the other vaults he was Lord over. He looked up at Griphook, “Please authorize payment of this invoice from the main Potter vault, and take for yourself as commission the fee of ʛ 100.”

Griphook nodded and signed the invoice as paid, duplicating it and handing one copy to Harry to include in his portfolio, while the bank’s copy disappeared in a quiet burst of flame. 

“Lord Potter Black Aquitaine Poitiers Gaunt Iceni Peverell Gryffindor Slytherin Emrys Mors, upon payment of this debt, you are hereby granted the status of “most favored patron” of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.” Harry felt a veil of magic settle on him. 

“Thank you, Griphook.” Harry tried not to feel stupid. “But I’m not sure what that means, exactly. And please, just call me Harry.”

“Well, Harry, it means that I am authorized to offer you additional services, for a fee, of course. And that your account manager will travel to you, at any Gringotts branch in the world, should you be in need.”

“Oh, that’s cool. What services? And who’s my account manager?” Harry felt he ought to know these things, and wondered why he hadn’t been told he had more than the one vault. He supposed he should add that to his list of questions. He heaved a deep sigh. Somehow, in trying to untangle himself from one mess, he managed to get deeper into another one. 

Griphook glanced up at Harry, but Harry couldn’t quite read the meaning behind the look. “As you have not appointed a new account manager, the goblin in charge of your accounts continues to be Stonetooth. As to services, in addition to the self-updating account books, Gringotts offers patrons advanced magical health scans, family trees and tapestries, as well as limited access to the Goblin libraries.” 

Luna looked at the bewildered gleam in Harry’s eyes, and knew her friend was nearing exhaustion as the stress of repaying the goblins disappeared and the stress of maintaining so many noble titles fell on his shoulders. She nudged him. It was time to go. Harry looked over, before he left, he had one more question. 

“Why hasn’t Manager Stonetooth been in contact before this?” Harry’s voice was cautious. “I never knew about any of this. Just the vault you took me to when I was 11, Griphook.” 

“It is Gringotts policy to notify all heirs of their status upon their 11th birthday. We provide bank statements on a quarterly basis. You should have been informed. If you were truly in ignorance, we will investigate the situation. Rest assured, Gringotts will get to the bottom of this.”

“Thanks, Griphook.” Harry sighed, and stood up. “You’ve been a huge help.” He gathered up and shrunk the account portfolios and stowed them in an extendable pocket of his robes. 

“You remain the strangest wizard of my acquaintance, Harry Potter.” Griphook also stood. “I recommend visiting the vaults and your family estates sooner rather than later, Young Lord. The portraits will be able to advise you.” 

“I will.” Harry promised, his feelings were quite mixed on the idea of wizarding portraits of his family. He’d be happy to talk to them, certainly, but why hadn’t anyone told him about them before? Even Sirius never mentioned… He cut that thought short. “Griphook. Is there an easy way to get money without carrying it all around with me? Even muggle money?” 

“Yes. If you will hand me one of your portfolios.” Griphook held out his hand and Harry put the account book for the main Potter vault into it. Griphook pressed his forefinger on a rune Harry hadn’t noticed on the cover, and then opened the folder to reveal what looked like a muggle style credit card. “This will provide funds in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. It will work like a credit card in any Muggle money machine. If you are in the wizarding world, you need only press the finger bearing the appropriate Lordship ring to the rune in the corner of the card. Your coins will appear below the card.”

“Right. Well, thanks again Griphook.” Harry took the card and portfolio back and slipped them into his pocket. 

Luna took Harry’s hand and after exchanging farewells with the goblin, they walked out of the bank and into the sunshine of Diagon Alley. 


	2. Cause every girl crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Luna find themselves in the muggle world. They do some shopping, connect with Neville, and begin to question Dumbledore’s influence more significantly.

Harry and Luna stood together in the sunshine and looked out over Diagon Alley. It was beginning to look more like its old self. All the shops which had been attacked by the death eaters had builders surrounding them. The burned out buildings had been taken down to the foundations and new structures were being built. The old ministry posters had been ripped down. Harry was happy to see that all of the “Undesirable Number One” notices had disappeared. All around them, damage was being painted over, swept up, reorganized. He took a deep breath and tried to settle, his life felt a bit like Diagon Alley. He too had been ripped apart at the foundation, and was now trying to build up and reorganize. But Merlin did it ever feel strange. 

He looked around at all the people watching him, advancing on him in ways that looked to him to be both threatening and weirdly adoring. They wanted to touch him, be near him, take a piece of him. He’d been early enough on his way to the bank that they hadn’t been so bold. But now. Now, it was worse than that first day with Hagrid in the Leaky Cauldron. “Luna” He sounded strangled, the panic welling up.

“It’ll be okay, Harry. Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” He took her outstretched hand and felt her magic surround him. It felt like feathers all around him, soft and warm, but strong and protective at the same time. 

She took his arm and side-along apparated him to a quiet corner near Green Park in London. They transfigured their robes into muggle clothing, and walked up to a rather expensive-looking hotel. It took some quick talking. Apparently, the hotel was the very height of luxury, and they didn’t look quite posh enough. Soon enough, however, they managed to book themselves in for a week, under the names Gordon and Jennifer Martin. Harry spared a look at Luna. “Who is Gordon Martin?” 

“You are, silly.” Luna smiled at him. 

Harry was confused, but ultimately decided that he didn’t care. It had been a hell of a day and it wasn’t even lunch yet. He handed over his new “credit card” and crossed his fingers. He knew the goblins wouldn’t let him down intentionally— not now, but he also knew better than to trust his luck. The concierge’s eyes widened slightly at the simple black card. The only sign that his “favored” status applied here too. 

“Will you send up some lunch? Something light, please.” He looked at the waiting hotel staff. 

“Of course. Your luggage sir?” 

“Not yet. We’re, uh, going shopping later.” Harry wasn’t sure what Luna planned for the rest of the day, but a wealthy young couple on a shopping spree wouldn’t be too far out of expectations. He could be one of those eccentric rich people, he decided. Luna giggled and slipped her arm into his. 

They were shown to the room, but dismissed the waiting attendant as soon as possible. Harry groaned and fell onto the love seat situated at the foot of a giant bed. “Luna, have you ever known someone whose life was more of a mess?”

“Harry Potter. Your life is not a mess. It’s tangled right now, but you’re going to fix it.” Luna sat next to him. “We’re going to eat lunch, rest, and get Neville here. He can help us.” 

“Neville?”

“Yes, Harry. Your godbrother knows a lot about accounts. He’s the head of the Longbottom family now that he’s of age. He’ll be able to help.” 

“My godbrother.” Harry felt a smile stretch his face. He found that he couldn’t say godbrother without grinning like an idiot. He’d always counted the Weasleys and Hermione as family, but this felt different. Neville had been chosen as family by his parents. It felt like he belonged. “Yeah, let’s call Nev.” 

Luna smiled at him. Harry emptied his pockets and resized the account books. There was a rather huge stack of them, but it looked like the goblins had grouped the various family vaults together. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to read every piece of paper in every folder. It looked intimidating. 

Their lunch arrived. Harry took the tray, and as he was arranging things on the small coffee table, Luna sent off a patronus message to Neville, telling him where they could be found. Over soup and sandwiches, they chatted about inconsequential things: whether Hermione and Ron had found the Grangers yet, what Fred and George might be planning next for the joke shop, Luna’s new creatures. Apart from the luxury that surrounded them, it was quite normal and nice. 

“Luna, you realize we’re probably going to need a few things?” Harry asked, feeling the need of a toothbrush. “Let’s go shopping before Nev gets here. I like the idea of staying here in the Muggle world for a bit, while I sort through that mess.” He gestured vaguely at the pile of folders. “But we’ll need clothes and stuff.”

“That’s fine. I want to stay with you.” Luna stacked the used dishes and set the tray in the hall. “Let’s go now, before Neville gets here.”

Harry shrunk and returned the pile of folders to his pocket. Leaving them out for someone to snoop through wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. He gathered the room key, and was about to leave. “Um, have you ever been shopping in the muggle world?” 

“I’ve never been in the muggle world at all before this.” 

“But, then how’d you know to come here?” Harry was confused. Luna had apparated them into a dark hidden “corner” of the park, really just a space sandwiched between two rather large trees, but it did offer a lot of cover. And then, she had walked them directly to the hotel they were staying in. How did she do that if she had no knowledge of the muggle world? How did she even know this was a hotel? 

“The nargles.” Luna shrugged, looking completely unconcerned at having done something rather impossible. 

“Okay,” Harry muttered under his breath, and tried not to imagine what Hermione would say to that. She would never accept such a matter of fact treatment of what she considered to be imaginary. But Harry would never fight Luna on her creatures. He may not understand them, but they had helped him a number of times in the past. He suspected they were her way of interpreting intuition. Perhaps she was a bit of a Seer, as well. He shrugged. It was far better to just accept the strange beings as part of her life. “But I think we’re going to need some help. I’ve never been muggle shopping.” 

They walked into the lobby and stopped at the concierge desk. Luna asked for a dinner reservation in the hotel restaurant for three people. Harry, hoping that he didn’t sound crazy, told the woman who stepped up that he needed to find a place to buy new clothes for both of them. She beamed at them. He had clearly approached the right person. “What’s your style?” She gestured around at the various patrons milling about the lobby or sitting in the bar. Harry looked around. To be honest, he wasn’t a big fan of most muggle clothing— perhaps he’d spent too long living in his cousin’s clothes. He saw some young men walking past wearing leather jackets and combat boots. They had shirts advertising various bands he’d heard a few times on Dudley’s radio, and their jeans looked to fit tighter than most other people. Thanks to Dudley and his gang, he’d been teased for loose, poorly fitting clothes his whole life. He’d go with tighter if he had an option. 

“That” he casually pointed out the group of young men. 

“Ah. More punk than grunge, then eh?” Harry nodded as though this made sense. “And how about your girlfriend?” Harry felt a twist as that sounded very wrong in connection to Luna, but he looked over curiously at her. 

“Oh, my favorite color is all of them. I’ll find something wherever we go.” 

Harry smiled at her. “We’ll need some more dressy clothing as well, I think. Especially if we’re eating in the restaurant tonight.” He turned to the attendant. “Any ideas?” 

“Oh yes.” She began rattling off a list of shops, and general shopping areas before taking in their glazed looks. “Here, get off the tube at Bond Street or Oxford— they’re close to each other. There’s plenty of boutique and designer options around there in Mayfair and SoHo. If you head back to the main road, you’ll find department stores with your punk look.” 

“Okay,” Harry took a deep breath. He could do that. “Thank you for your help.” He and Luna stepped back out into muggle London. They could do this. He’d learned to camp, care for himself, and look after Ron and Hermione all last year. He could manage a couple hours shopping trip. 

They started with the department stores, and picked up enough of the essentials to last them. Harry had several pairs of new jeans, which fit him, a collection of mostly black T-shirts with different logos he liked, socks, underwear, and pajamas, a pair of the combat boots he had so admired, and his favorite: a new leather jacket. It had silver accents and a chain around one arm. He was very pleased with it. Luna had likewise picked up the essentials, but her style was far more eclectic than his. Her basket was filled with color, he noticed something glittery hanging over the side. She also had a pair of boots, but they were turquoise with yellow laces. They had shopped separately, but finished at about the same time and met near the changing rooms. Harry took Luna’s basket and his own to the cash register. 

They walked down the street, each with a bulging bag, but with nowhere to surreptitiously shrink them down. They stopped into a drug store for toothbrushes and basic care items. And then went to find some more formal clothing. 

This ended up being a much more personal shopping trip than planned. Harry spent a lot of time looking at the various designers shops and boutique windows for a style he liked. It seemed that in the muggle world, men and women bought their more elegant clothing in separate shops. They entered a small boutique geared toward women’s fashions, and Luna was approached immediately by a salesclerk. Harry was directed to a seat in the corner and provided with a cup of coffee while he waited. Another man was already seated there, but barely looked up from a newspaper when Harry sat down. 

He watched as Luna was questioned about her day, where they were staying, what they were planning, what outfits she might need and what colors she liked. Luna was then whisked into one of the curtained off changing areas, while the sales lady brought her a veritable mountain of clothing to try. Luna was dressed, redressed, prodded, poked, accessorized, and exclaimed over. Finally, she emerged clutching a few items. 

“You get everything you want?” Harry asked her. “What about shoes to go with it all? I think you’ll need more than your boots.” The sales clerk cooed at him. Luna smiled. 

“I have everything I want, but I haven’t looked at shoes.” She raised an eyebrow at the clerk, who took her clothing and set it next to the register. The shop had a small selection of dress shoes. Luna chose a pair of sparkling silver sandals with moonstones in the latch. “I think these will do nicely.” 

“Great.” Harry handed over his goblin-issued card without a thought. 

Men’s fashions were handled differently, he found. Luna was treated politely but not welcomed as he had been. He was made to stand and be measured, and then trousers, a sport coat, vest, and several dress shirts were altered to fit. It was time consuming, but worth it to have quality clothing that would fit him. He also selected two ties and some cashmere pullovers in different colors. His final purchase of the day was a pair of rather dull looking dress shoes. He much preferred the look of his boots, but knew he couldn’t wear them with the dress clothes. 

They returned to the hotel with bags full of clothing, feeling rather proud of their accomplishment. Harry hadn’t spent money like that in the whole of his life. He thought many times about how much easier that horrible camping trip would have been if he had only known about all the money he had. If he’d had access to the Gringotts card, they could have eaten in any muggle restaurant they wanted. Stayed in comfortable beds once in a while. It would have been a completely different experience. 

He wondered again why no one had told him of the massive inheritances he had. Some of the worry that had slipped away while he was shopping returned. He couldn’t afford to be frivolous, not as the head of so many families. He’d need to get to work on those folders soon. 

“There you are!” Neville shouted as soon as they opened their room door. “I get a patronus, telling me you need my help, and to show up  _ in the muggle world _ mind you, and that you will explain everything. So, what do I do? I show up. The hotel clerk had never heard of a Harry Potter before. He thought I was making things up. Probably thought I was a thief. I had to disillusion myself and sneak a look in the record book to find your room number based on your handwriting— it isn’t any better than with a quill, you know. Almost got caught, too. I snuck upstairs and knocked and knocked, but you weren’t here. I didn’t know where you’d got to, who attacked you, anything. I alohomora’d myself in here, but you didn’t leave a note!” Neville eventually slowed down to a low grumble, looking resentfully at them. “I didn’t know where you were. What have you been doing? Why do you need help?” 

“Sorry Neville.” Harry grimaced. “We didn’t mean to worry you. We needed muggle clothes and things, so we went shopping while we waited for you.” 

“It’s nice to see you, Neville.” Luna reached up and pecked a kiss on his cheek. 

“You both, as well.” Neville smiled, feeling a little sheepish over his outburst. He really had been worried. “So, what’s up?”

“It’s a really long story. We’ll tell you at dinner, okay?” Harry handed a bag to Luna, who nodded and retreated into the bathroom to change. Harry had been sharing a dorm with Neville for six years, changing in front of him once more wouldn’t matter. He pulled on his new jeans and boots, but wore a dress shirt and one of his pullovers. He ended up sort of half-way between dressed up and casual, and hoped it would be good enough for the hotel restaurant. 

Luna emerged looking lovely in a skirt and top combo from the boutique. She too was wearing her boots. She nodded at Harry, and then gave Neville a sharp evaluating glance. She quickly transfigured what he was wearing into smart trousers and a pullover similar to the one Harry was wearing. 

“Our reservation is in five minutes. I hope you’re hungry Nev.” Luna smiled up at him, and taking both boys by the arm, led the way up to the rooftop restaurant. 

The maitre’d seated them on the terrace with a view of the royal gardens. Neville looked at Luna and Harry. “Do either of you know about muggle food? I’ve never even eaten in a wizarding restaurant, never mind muggle.” 

“I’ve never been anywhere this fancy, but I think it’ll be all right. Food is food, right?” Harry sounded confident, but a small voice that sounded a lot like Vernon Dursley was whispering about freaks in the back of his mind. “We’ll figure it out. It can’t be that difficult.” 

Harry looked up at the waiter, who offered the trio something to drink. Harry threw caution to the wind. “Hello. We’ve never been here before, and aren’t really sure what we’re doing. Do you have any recommendations?” 

If the waiter was startled by the abrupt question, he didn’t let it show. “Of course, sir. Actually, if you aren’t certain what you’d like, we have a tasting menu available with small plates. It gives you a sample of a lot of different dishes. It may not sound like it, but it really does fill you up. It’s available both with and without recommended wine pairings.” 

“Okay, I’ll have that. Um, I don’t know anything about wine, though. Does that matter?”

“Not at all. This is actually a good way to start learning. But if you prefer, we have plenty of soft drinks.” 

Harry was feeling adventurous and ordered the tasting menu with wine pairings. Neville joined him, but Luna asked for pumpkin juice. 

“I’m sorry, that’s not a juice we offer.” The waiter began listing juice options, and Luna stopped him to request apple juice instead. 

The three smiled at each other. “So, really, what’s going on, Harry? Luna? Why did you send me that message?”

As Harry and Luna began to tell the story of their morning with the goblins, the food arrived. Although Harry could recognize the quality of it, he was too distracted to really taste much. He kept going over the questions in his mind. He’d had a list of bothersome questions no one would answer since he first entered the wizarding world, but they became more serious in his fourth year of Hogwarts. Everything in his life had changed that year. Now, he had even more questions about everything that had happened since Hagrid had broken into the hut and called him a wizard. 

“Neville,” Harry interrupted Luna toward the end of her story. “Did you know that your mum is my godmother?” 

“Yeah, my gran told me. Your mum was mine, too.” Neville looked over at Harry in surprise. “Didn’t you know?” 

“Nobody ever told me.” Harry tried not to get upset with Neville. Had he really thought that Harry would ignore him if he had known? “Neville, I’d have given anything to have had a brother.” 

“Brother?” Neville looked surprised. “But Harry— Well, I guess it sort of is like that, but I never thought— I mean, you had Ron and the Weasleys, right?“

Harry decided that the past wasn’t worth arguing over. “Yes, I had them. I’d like to have you as family, too Neville. If you want me.”

“Brothers, then, Harry.” Huge smiles broke on both boys’ faces. “But why didn’t anybody tell you about your family lines? That doesn’t make sense. You need to know.”

“I think it’s connected to some other stuff that’s been on my mind lately. Here.” Harry pulled from his pocket a worn and ragged bit of parchment, on which he had printed several questions. It was clear that the list had been added to over time, as Harry’s penmanship had improved slightly over the list and the questions dealt with events that were years apart:

  1. ~~Why did Voldemort come after me as a baby~~ (prophecy)
  2. Why was the Stone moved to Hogwarts the very same year that Voldemort happened to be possessing the DADA teacher? 
  3. Why would the Flamels entrust Dumbledore with the one thing that kept them alive? 
  4. Why would Dumbledore use “defenses” for the stone that first year students could solve? 
  5. If the Flamels could be so easily talked into destroying the stone, why not just do that to begin with? 
  6. Why were the Weasleys yelling about Muggles and Platform 9 ¾ in the middle of King’s Cross? 
  7. Why did Dumbledore knowingly hire a criminal and an idiot to teach us? He knew Lockheart was useless. He knew Lockheart had obliviated people before he ever came to Hogwarts. 
  8. Dumbeldore was deputy headmaster when Myrtle died. He must have known where she was found. Why didn’t he just wait outside the girls’ loo after Halloween to see who was opening the chamber, and fix Ginny?
  9. Why not purchase mature mandrakes from an apothecary so the petrified students would not have to miss the entire school year?
  10. Isn’t is rather a huge coincidence that the one my parents trusted as secret keeper just happened to be the spy?
  11. Why did Dumbledore send two 13-year-olds back in time? There must have been so many other ways to save Sirius. Why take the huge risk to our sanity? 
  12. Why did Remus never get in touch with me till 3rd year? Why did he wait so long to tell me he knew my parents? 
  13. I love Hagrid, and he knows a lot about creatures, but why make someone with a third-grade education a teacher? It was dangerous, even in a class without active magic— Malfoy. 
  14. How did Dumbeldore not realize Crouch Jr was Moody? They were friends. It’s beyond ridiculous. 
  15. If the AK doesn’t leave a mark, why do I have a scar? 
  16. Why was I entered into a “binding magical contract” by someone else? If that was possible, wouldn’t people be doing it all the time? 
  17. Why was Umbridge allowed to use that horrible quill on me in the school? It’s a torture device when used that way, and no one said anything. 
  18. For that matter, why wasn’t she in Azkaban? She admitted to sending dementors after me, tried to use the Cruciatus on me, and that damn quill. 
  19. Why didn’t Dumbledore ever organize a trial? He knew Sirius was innocent and he was Chief Warlock. It would have been easy. 
  20. If I am to defeat Voldemort, according to the prophecy Dumbledore finally told me about, why haven’t I been trained? I faced him knowing only one defensive spell. I escaped, yes, but it was pure luck that our wands connected. Why hasn’t there been any instruction? 
  21. Why was Dumbeldore holding job interviews in his brother’s pub? Doesn’t he have an office for that sort of thing? 
  22. How convenient that the prophecy was overheard by a) a death eater who ran to Voldemort and b) the best friend of the subject of the prophecy. There are too many coincidences ruling my life.



Neville spent a lot of time looking down the list. “That’s a lot of good questions, Harry.” There was a horrible thought laying just beyond the reach of his mind, but it was there, teasing him with sinister implications and dark suspicions. “Do you think the questions are connected?” 

“You’re asking me whether I think that the whole of my life, including my parents’ deaths, my death, the Dursleys and Voldemort, all of it, has been organized by someone, likely Dumbledore?” Harry looked at him, and Neville didn’t want to say yes, but didn’t think he could say no either. “Yes. I do. I just can’t figure out why. I think the answer might be in those account books. There’s a reason my ancestry was kept secret from me. I need your help to figure it out.” 

“I’m with you, Harry. Whatever happens.” Harry smiled at his godbrother. 

“Me too, Harry.” Luna’s voice had an edge to it as though she knew something interesting, unexpected, or dangerous was going to happen, but Harry knew that she’d have his back regardless. 

“Thanks. Both of you.” Harry felt relieved. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be on his side, but they weren’t here now. Neville and Luna had always been loyal. He’d trust them. “Shall we see what muggles have for dessert?” He smiled. And their giggles filled the air over London. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t seen, I’m stealing chapter titles from random 80s music, and the occasional song from the 70s or 90s as well...   
> You can try guessing the next one from ABBA’s “Money Money Money”


	3. It’s a rich man’s world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville helps Harry sort through the paperwork of being a bazillionaire, and along the way they begin to ask some pertinent questions. 
> 
> Also, Harry really can’t flirt.

After dinner, Neville had given his promise to return the next day and help Harry through the account books. He was excited about the prospect of getting closer to Harry, his godbrother, even if it did seem that Harry was in the middle of a number of rather large problems. It just wasn’t fair. He’d already sacrificed so much; fought in a war; given up his life even, and now he had more to figure out. Neville was determined to stand by his side. He’d seen how Ron and Hermione had abandoned Harry for one reason or another when they were in school. They always made it up again, and he didn’t doubt their friendship, but he knew it still hurt Harry that his two best friends weren’t dependable. Well, Neville might not be the brightest wizard of his age, nor very good at quidditch or chess, but he was dependable. 

Luna had decided to stay with Harry. She could have gone home and spent the night in her own bedroom, but she knew that Harry was still reeling from everything he had learned, and she didn’t think he ought to be alone at the moment. They called to the front desk for some popcorn, and spent the evening watching a television program about a woman named Diedre whose relationship troubles had ended her in jail, unlawfully. Both Harry and Luna enjoyed it immensely, despite the confusing plot twists.

The next morning, Harry woke early, having finally rested well. Surprisingly, he had had no nightmares or flashbacks. He scooted up to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard, and looked at Luna resting next to him. Was it that simple? Did she truly keep the nargles at bay? He smiled. He had no romantic feelings toward Luna, but he loved her deeply all the same. She never pushed, never said anything hurtful, always tried to help. She was a lot like Neville that way. He smiled. He hadn’t been good friends with either of them for a lot of the time he was in school, but going forward, he definitely wanted to keep both of them close. He slipped out of the bed and gathered some clothes, heading to the bathroom to start the day. 

When he emerged, Luna stepped in to take her turn, and he sat in front of the pile of folders. It looked like a lot of work. He separated out the Potter accounts from the pile. He figured that these had been the most recently managed as his father must have done something with them. A lot of the titles he held were ancient. Would there be anything left in them? And he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to open the Black accounts. At one point there had been a lot of Blacks, and no doubt Walburga had made a thorough mess of them during her time as Lady Black. He wondered if he could reinstate Andromeda to the family and hold these in trust for Teddy. He was just as much a Black as a Lupin. 

Neville had arrived, bearing a box of pastries, by the time Luna was ready, and they sat down to take a look at the mess Harry was left to deal with. As Neville and Harry immersed themselves in accounts and finance, Luna used the kettle in the room to prepare some tea, and then opened a book she’d purchased during their shopping adventure. She smiled over at them, but knew she couldn’t really add much to the discussion they needed to have. Neville started with the inheritance test. 

“Harry,” Neville was reading the parchment, “this says that you inherited the Aquitaine, Poitiers, and Iceni lines from your mother.”

“Yep.” Harry knew what the issue was. “Griphook said that she wasn’t actually a muggleborn, my grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great, etc. were all from a squib line of those families. The main branches must have died out in order for the title to fall to my mother. I don’t know if she ever knew or not.” 

“It would have been in her will, wouldn’t it? Didn’t anyone ever show you a copy?” 

Neville’s words caused a rush of cold, and Harry stopped shuffling papers. Her will? His face changed as he felt sparks of electricity running through his veins. Of course his parents must have had wills. His father at least knew he had a lot of money. They had a kid. They were fighting in the middle of a war, and they knew they were targets. It would have been so irresponsible not to leave a will. Why hadn’t anyone ever told him? Dumbledore must have known. He’s the one who left him with the Dursleys. Although, come to think of that, why on earth would his parents have sent him there? There must have been someone magical they could have left him with. Anyone would have been better than the damn Dursleys.

“That’s something I think I’ll need to ask the goblins about. Maybe they know about my parent’s will or wills.” Harry’s voice came out sounding very terse. “Let’s add it to the list, hm?” 

He carefully added “23) Did my parents leave wills? If so, why wasn’t I ever told about them?” To the list he’d been keeping since just after fourth year. 

“Harry,” Neville sounded very cautious, not eager to add to Harry’s anger. “Did you get through all the family lines?”

“You mean the founders? Yeah, that was a surprise.” Harry, as Lord of Gryffindor and Slytherin, supposed that technically. he owned half of Hogwarts. That was something to think about. He’d have to talk to McGonagall. 

“Well, yeah, that’s interesting, but Emrys? Harry, that’s an important line. Very important.” Neville sounded awed. That wasn’t good news as far as Harry was concerned. Being famous had never worked in his favor. 

“I’ve never heard of that one, but when I put the ring on, it was a huge wave of power that filled me up. I had to really ramp up my own magic or it would have been completely overwhelmed.”

“You mean you absorbed the power of the Emrys line,  _ with your own magical core _ ? Harry, do you know who the last Lord Emrys was?” Neville was looking gobsmacked. Harry leaned over and closed his mouth for him. He then smacked him on the back of the head. Just lightly, to get rid of the bug-eyed impressed look he was wearing. 

“No, Nev,” Harry said quietly. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m still me.” 

“Of course you’re still you, Harry.” Neville felt a bit sheepish. He knew that his friend had faced enough gawping over the years, but still. Emrys. And absorbing that sort of power rather than being overcome by it? And Harry had no idea that he’d done anything unusual. Neville shook his head. “You being you with that much power is what is so amazing. Harry, the last Lord Emrys was Merlin. That was his power that you ‘ramped up over.’” Harry shrugged. What could he do about it now? Neville shook his head. “Only you, Harry. Only you would shrug off the power of Merlin running through your magical core.” 

Harry’s eyes, which had widened as Neville explained, narrowed again, thinking of other people’s reactions. “Power isn’t everything, Nev.” Harry wasn’t sure he ever wanted this to be known. He’d never have another moment’s peace. And oh Merlin. Ron and Hermione. Harry wasn’t sure his friendship with either of them would survive them learning about this. Hermione would start lecturing and Ron would fall into a jealous sulk. He looked up at Neville and Luna, and realized all of a sudden, that these two people were the only ones he trusted to treat him just the same as always. He smiled at them. “Merlin, eh?” Neville nodded, grinning. Harry was finally realizing the significance. “Well, I guess I should’ve paid more attention to Binns.” The three of them dissolved into laughter, and the tense moment passed. 

“I don’t know this last one, though,” Neville was still looking at the inheritance parchment. “Mors? I’ve never heard of it before. And what sort of “magical accomplishment” did you have to perform in order to earn it I wonder.” 

“Oh, that.” Harry sat for a minute feeling sheepish, but decided to trust them with this secret as well as all the others. “You must know the tale of the three brothers, right?” They both nodded their heads and he explained how he had come to possess the cloak, the stone, and the wand. 

“You’re the Master of Death.” 

“I’m pretty sure it sounds more impressive than it really is. I’m not about to wander around in a hood with a scythe. And dead is dead. I can’t call people back. The stone only creates an illusion.”

“Yeah, but Harry. What about you, mate? You came back from being dead.”

Harry grimaced, “There were extenuating circumstances. I’m hardly immortal. I mean, I’m willing to bet that if I died again, I’d stay that way this time.” 

“You realize how strange that sounds, yeah?” Neville looked up with a smile on his face, and the mood lightened considerably. Harry chuckled a little and nodded. 

“Okay, so those are my inheritances. I think we need to work on the Potter and Lupin accounts first. I want Teddy to have a healthy account when its time for him to take over.” 

Neville nodded and opened the first portfolio on the Potter estates, and scooted closer to Harry so he could read over his shoulder. “Here, see. The first page is the summary. It will tell you the owner of the vault, the dates connected to it’s first opening, what type of vault it is, and whether it’s currently active or locked down waiting for an heir or authorized person. It will also have the current balance and the last 5 transactions, for easy reference.” 

“Okay, what do you mean by type of vault?” Harry looked over the page. It showed the charges for his room at the hotel and the payments he had made during his and Luna’s shopping spree. That all seemed right. 

“There are different types, this is a coin vault. It holds money. Obviously. But there are library vaults that are specially designed with stasis charms and preservation spells to keep the books from being damaged. There are also artifact vaults, and portrait vaults. Those have charms to protect the contents as well, but they can differ based on what exactly is being held in them.” 

“Okay, so why do the Potters have so many vaults? I mean, there’s a whole pile of them here. Vaults 677 to” Harry checked the folders again, “703!” Harry waved the account books in the air in front of Neville. 

“Stop. You’ll hit someone doing that. Harry, think about it. The main Potter Vault, like most old family vaults, is designed to maintain all the members of a family over generations. It’s controlled by the head of the family, yes, but that’s the vault that would support a dowry, or a school vault for a second or third child. Most families have an Heir’s vault for the first born, and that’s the vault you must have used. You accessed that one when you were in school, but if the family had two kids, the family would usually start a vault in that kid’s name so they could learn how to handle money on their own and to pay for school supplies. Usually when the second born came of age, that vault became a standard adult account, and was used as they established a career or whatever, but not all second-born children had kids of their own, and at some point that branch of the family ended. Usually, the vaults would return to the control of the head of the family. You.”

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Harry found the whole thing very complicated. “Can I just return the coin in these extra vaults to the main one and close them down? It’ll be a lot simpler.” 

“You could possibly do that, yes, but you should talk to your account manager goblin first. Some of them may be funding various charities or businesses, and closing them down could have consequences you don’t want.” 

Harry was getting ready to tear his hair out, and this was just one family. But he was learning a lot, and Neville was being very patient. He started opening the other Potter family account books. Vaults 678 and 692 held a collection of portraits and paintings. Vault 679 was a library vault. Vault 680 held artifacts. Vaults 699 and 700 were potions ingredients requiring very different preservation environments. Vaults 681-686 held various amounts of coin. 687 was the heir’s vault, he ran through the basic information for it. “Hey! It says here that the vault is self-refilling to 1.000 galleons each year on my birthday.”

“Mine was that way, too,” Neville told him. “Most heir vaults do it that way. It’s not like we can get a job while we’re at Hogwarts to add money to our vaults.” 

“When I first visited Diagon Alley with Hagrid at 11 years old, he had me take out enough for three years worth of supplies. I never saw the key again after that.” Harry said tightly. He didn’t want to distrust Hagrid, but why have him take all that money out of the vault and then deliberately not plan to go back? He looked down at the recent transactions. They should have been from his fourth year, when Mrs. Weasley got his dress robes, but there were transactions up until his 17th birthday. Huge transactions. 

“Neville,” he called. Neville had been examining the main account, his brow somewhat wrinkled in concentration. “Something’s wrong here.” 

“Here too, Harry.” Neville moved the portfolios aside and set the record for the main account in front of Harry. “This vault should have been closed the night your parents died. The only one who should have been given access was your legal guardian, but see? The accounts are still active. These are your shopping charges, of course, but these other ones. I don’t think you were spending that much money while you were on the run, were you? The Dursleys never knew about your Gringotts money, right?”

“Of course not. I’d never have told them about it.” 

“Did you have another legal guardian?” Neville asked. 

“I don’t know. Dumbledore had a lot to say about my life, but I don’t know if he was ever legally made my guardian.” Harry once again pulled out his list of questions and added to it again: “23) Did I have a legal guardian, other than the Dursley family?” He looked at it and felt a cold gnawing sensation in the region of his gut. If he did have a guardian, why did that person leave him with the damn Dursleys, while taking his money? “Nev, this list is getting pretty damning. If the answers to some of these questions are what I suspect they might be—“ he broke off and couldn’t quite finish the thought. 

Neville threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “If they are, then we will deal with it together, Harry. Godbrothers, remember?” Harry leaned up against him and sighed. It seemed he was forever bringing the people he cared about into trouble. 

“Okay, so what are some of the transactions that have you worried?” Harry asked. 

“Well look, this page shows the regular, scheduled transfers, both in and out of your accounts: it’s anything that’s pre-approved to be paid on a schedule. Like, say you had a loan, and wanted to make loan payments of 500 galleons on the 15th of every month.” 

“Yeah, okay. Are there some of those?” 

“Most estates have those. They save a lot of bother and paperwork.” Neville’s face screwed up again at the thought of paperwork. 

“So, what are mine, then?” 

Neville ran his finger down the list of automatic payments. “Well, see here? This is an ongoing payment of 5.000 galleons per month into the account of Albus Dumbledore. And this one is a payment of 1.000 galleons per month into an account in Fawkes’ name. Isn’t that the headmaster’s phoenix?”

“Yeah, it was probably going to the Order of the Phoenix. He had to fund the war somehow. Could it have been my parents? Maybe they arranged it before they died.” Harry did not sound very hopeful. He knew he was grasping at straws. Even if his parents had arranged the payment, there was no need of so much money during the years when Voldemort was gone. 

“Harry, no. Look at the dates. Someone, and I think we all guess the same person, set these payments up two weeks after Godric’s Hollow. 

“Dumbledore. I guess taking my money was his plan. It makes sense, after all.” Harry sounded more sad than angry, and Neville was worried. “He planned on me dying. He actually needed me to die. And what does a dead man need money for? I bet he justified the whole thing.” Harry sighed. 

“That’s not all, Harry.” Neville had just spotted something that made him sick. He stood up, and started to pace. It didn’t make any sense. No, that wasn’t true. It made perfect sense, he just didn’t like what it added up to. He turned to Harry looking almost as disgusted as when he faced off with Voldemort and killed Nagini. “Harry. I’m so sorry, but” he stopped. This was going to kill Harry. He swallowed thickly, and continued in a quiet but firm voice that left no room for doubt. “Hermione is getting a scheduled payment of 500 galleons per month from the main Potter vault. So are a few other people I don’t know, but she’s there. It’s her name.” 

Harry went very still as a great rushing took over his ears. He wasn’t seeing the room in front of him. Instead, he was seeing a young girl of 11, trying desperately to make friends with him and Ron— interrupting them on the train, telling them off after discovering Fluffy, “helping” Ron with the levitation spell. He saw them battling the troll together, he and Ron casting spells, distracting the great smelly thing, while a bushy-haired girl stood frozen. He heard her offering excuses to save them a punishment. Was that it? The moment when they decided to be friends? Was the entire thing orchestrated? 

“—ry? Harry? Can you hear me?” Neville was looking deep into his eyes, when he snapped back to the present. Luna was pressed into his side, hugging him gently. 

“She—” Harry began, but wasn’t sure what he was going to say. “Are you sure, Nev?” Neville nodded, he was sure. And when he saw her again, he was going to have a good few things to say to her. 

“Okay.” Harry took in a huge breath of air. “Okay, well. That’s another question on the list, I guess: 25) Why are there huge transfers to Dumbledore, Fawkes, and Granger?” It hurt to use Hermione’s last name, but until he knew for certain, one way or the other, he wanted the distance. “Let’s keep going. We’ve got a lot of accounts to look at.” Neville and Luna gave him strange looks, but went along with it for now. Luna stayed next to Harry, and pulled one of the folders toward her. 

Harry pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. “Look, you two. We know there are— well, irregularities, I suppose is the best word for them. Let’s make a list. I want to meet and ask Griphook about all this, and I think the better prepared we are for the meeting, the smoother it’ll go. Just write down anything that seems suspicious, the person, amount, date, and vault number I guess ought to do.”

“Good idea, Harry.” Luna looked back down at her folder. It was a library vault, started by one of the earliest Potters. There looked to be a lot of herbology and potions texts in it. Or, there had been. She pulled Harry’s parchment and quill toward her and noted the times when Hermione had been granted the ancient books. She hoped they were still in good condition and could be recovered. 

The three worked mostly in silence for the whole morning. All three of them adding suspicious transactions to Harry’s parchment. They discovered that the Invisibility Cloak was not the only artifact that Dumbledore had taken from the vaults— “‘Your father left this in my possession when he died’ my ass!”—and every vault with coins included some sort of theft as well. 

By lunchtime, all three needed a break. “Have either of you ever tried pizza?” Harry asked with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to— it smells amazing.” Neither Neville nor Luna wanted to disappoint Harry, so they agreed, and decided to walk through muggle London to find pizza. 

They found what they wanted in a cozy Italian restaurant only about a 10 minute walk through the park. Harry discovered that pizza does indeed, taste as good as it smelled, and Luna and Neville discovered a new reason to like muggle food, although Luna also learned that she wasn’t a big fan of olives. Harry learned that he rather liked the way the waiter’s trousers fit. 

“Do you mind if we take a break for the afternoon? I’m going cross-eyed cooped up in that room all morning. Let’s explore a bit.” Harry’s excitement was contagious. For the first time in his life, he felt free to do whatever he wanted. He knew that responsibility was waiting for him back in the magical world. He was expected to contribute, be an adult, and help the rebuilding efforts, but he’d never had a childhood, his teens were dominated by a psychopath and a manipulative bastard, and he just wanted one afternoon to spend with his friends. It didn’t seem like too much to ask. 

“Good idea. Where do you want to go?” 

“Not sure. Let’s ask.” Harry flagged down their waiter. “Sorry to bother you, but we have a question. If you had one afternoon, unlimited funds, and the city of London spread out before you, what would you do?” Harry smiled at the young man. 

“Just the one afternoon, hm? Well, if the weather was fine, like it is today, I’d probably find a quiet spot in a park and watch the people go by, drink a beer or two in a pub, and then go dancing.” A light hit the waiter’s brown eyes and turned them golden. Harry couldn’t stop looking. “But I’m a quiet kind of guy. If you’re looking for a tourist attraction, Madam Tussauds is nearby, and the London Eye will definitely give you a good view.” 

“I like a good view.” Harry smiled again. Neville put a hand over his eyes and groaned. Luna giggled. 

The waiter smirked. “Do you? Well, I hope you find it, then.” He sauntered off, after leaving the check on the side of the table. 

“Harry, you’re hopeless.” Neville snickered into his napkin, while Harry blushed. 

“It was still a good idea. We’re surrounded by parks here, let’s go find somewhere and enjoy the good weather. Then we can see about the London Eye. My cousin mentioned that once or twice.”

“Okay Harry, but you still need to learn how to flirt better.” Luna’s voice carried just far enough that they could hear laughter coming from the kitchen area. Harry’s ears turned red, and he grabbed the check, heading to the register. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading...   
> And yes, I know the London Eye opened in 2000, we’re fudging things a bit for the sake of fiction— go with it, this is not a major plot point.
> 
> And, you may have noticed I’m stealing chapter titles from song lyrics. Wanna have a try at guessing the next one? It’s from Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo.


	4. It’s a dead man’s party, who could ask for more?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re back at the bank with lots of questions. They get rid of a corrupt manager, listen to wills, and learn some surprising news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasn’t sure about posting again so soon. But I’m dying to get on with the story, and we still have a few more chapters of bank business before they can move on. Sorry about that, but it’ll prove useful later, and I’ll make it up soon with something a bit light, and then something a bit more action-y. That’s a word. I just used it.

Harry, Neville, and Luna had spent a week in the muggle world. Neville would arrive around 8, usually with breakfast, although sometimes they ate muggle style in the hotel. They loved the French toast with strawberries. They would spend the mornings working through the account books. Their list of suspicious transactions was rather long and worrisome. They’d venture out for lunch. So far they had tried a fish and chips stand, an Indian takeaway, a beautifully decorated Thai restaurant, and an American-style steak house. They had also explored more of London’s muggle world, and had loved it. They’d been to several museums: The Tate was Luna’s favorite; they had also visited several famous buildings. Once Harry had explained that Big Ben was a clock, not a person, they’d stood in front of the Houses of Parliament and watched the tourists watch the scenery. 

Harry had also wondered if perhaps his mother had visited these places with her muggle family. Most English people would know their own historical places, right? It helped slightly with feeling connected to his family. 

They’d spent most evenings talking about their experiences in the last war. Each of them had scars from it, both internal and external. Neville talked about protecting the younger students from the Carrows, and how much stress he’d been under to maintain a safe space. He talked about defying them and earning his various punishments. Luna talked about her time in Malfoy manor and what her father had been willing to do to get her returned. She still loved him, but it was an uncomfortable kind of love for the first time in her life. She thoroughly disapproved of his plotting. Harry tried to talk through his own experiences, but it felt conflicted. Ron had left him, and though he had forgiven his friend, the accusations and abandonment still caused pain. And Hermione, he had counted on the fact that she stayed with him, was still his friend through it all. But Hermione had become an extremely painful subject for him. He ended up talking more about the Battle of Hogwarts than the “camping trip” as he had come to think of it in his mind. 

One evening the three had visited the West End and seen a theatre performance about a group of sick people who didn’t want to pay their rent. The songs were excellent, if a bit sad. Luna loved it, and had been humming the songs under her breath ever since they returned. 

Overall, Harry was quite happy with his muggle excursion, but he had a long list of questions for the goblins, and three owls had been tapping on the window of their suite that morning with worried letters from the Minister, Mrs. Weasley, and Professor McGonagall, all wondering where he was and if he would please return soon. Well, he knew he couldn’t move into the hotel room, and besides, there were properties all over Britain and the rest of the world that he had a right to inhabit if he wished. It was time to leave. 

He transfigured two of their shopping bags into suitcases, and he and Luna packed up their new clothes. Harry added the account books, his wand, and the invisibility cloak into the pocket he had set several expansion charms on. He also decided he preferred his new muggle clothing to robes, and so, as he left the hotel, he was wearing skinny jeans, doc martens, a tee shirt that promoted something called “Metallica” and his leather jacket. 

They walked toward the tube intending to enter the Leaky Cauldron from the muggle side and return to the bank. Neville was going to join them in the dismal little pub. Fortunately, he was already there, and the trio hurried to Gringotts. 

Again, all banking activity stopped when Harry entered, but this time the atmosphere seemed much friendlier. The glances he got from the goblins were more welcoming, even if the whispers picked up from the witches and wizards who were waiting in line and following his every move. Harry made to approach one of the teller lines, but was met by a goblin he didn’t recognize in bank livery. 

“If Lord Harry Potter Bl—” Harry looked his consternation at the goblin, who seemed quite willing to announce the rest of his titles to everyone in the bank. But goblins aren’t stupid, and he cut himself off before he could utter more. “—would be willing to follow me, I shall show him and his friends to his account manager’s office.” 

Harry did some quick thinking, and decided that if he was famous, he would start as he meant to continue. He bowed politely to the goblin, grinning widely but keeping his teeth hidden, and said “Thank you, Master Goblin, but I should like to speak to Goblin Griphook please.” The whispers got louder: _so polite. Yes, but why? A good boy. Only goblins, after all._ Harry ignored all of them and stepped quickly after his goblin guide. 

“Griphook will join you in this meeting, if that is your wish.” 

“Thank you.” Once they reached the darker corridors away from the crowd gathered in the main rooms, Harry, Neville, and Luna all relaxed a bit. “May I have your name, Master Goblin?” 

“I am Urkhelm.” The goblin's legs were short, but he moved quickly all the same. Soon, they were ushered into a room that was very similar to the previous conference room he and Luna had visited. Harry only noticed it wasn’t the same because there were different weapons hanging on the wall. “Wait here.” 

“Thank you, Goblin Urkhelm.” Harry said, but the goblin was already gone. He stepped over to examine a dagger on the wall. There were sapphires encrusted in the hilt, with what looked like runes carved into them. It was exquisite. 

“Lord Potter Black Aquitaine Poitiers Gaunt Iceni Peverell Gryffindor Slytherin Emrys Mors. Lord Neville Franklin Longbottom. Lady Luna Claire Lovegood. What can Gringotts offer you today?” Griphook stood in the doorway next to a goblin he’d never met. This must be Stonetooth, he thought, as he bowed low. 

“Goblin Griphook. I’m glad to see you again. And I have asked you to call me Harry, please. I have reviewed the account books, and I have a number of questions. Will you introduce your companion?” At Harry’s words, Griphook smiled viciously. Ah, this boy was thinking like a goblin, now: direct, polite, and cutthroat. 

“Harry. I am gratified to see you as well. My companion is Account Manager Stonetooth. He has held the position of Potter Account Manager for the past nearly 17 years.” Griphook caught Harry’s eyes and gave a subtle nod. It was all Harry needed to know. 

“Oh, good. Then he will also need to answer some questions. Master Griphook, I feel that this may be a long meeting. Will Gringotts be willing to provide some coffee, as well as whatever refreshment you might care for, and naturally take the fee from the main Potter vault.” Harry stepped over to the table, where as before the necessary number of chairs were growing out of the stone floor. He sat in the center seat and pulled the account books from his pocket to place them on the table in front of him. From within the top folder, he drew out two pieces of parchment, one rather old and battered, the other looked to be new but was an even longer list. 

Griphook and a rather grumpy Stonetooth took seats opposite the trio, and a silver coffee service appeared to the side of the table. Harry nodded his thanks, and Luna began to pour. He had arranged his questions carefully and began with what he considered the root of most of his problems. 

“After the attack in Godric’s Hollow that resulted in my parents’ deaths, who was my legal guardian?” This question, even more than his parents’ wills, was of the utmost importance to him. Whoever was responsible for him had also done him a severe wrong. 

Griphook and Stonetooth spoke in the same moment: “You did not have one.” “Albus Dumbledore.” 

“Excuse me?” Harry looked between them, confused. 

Stonetooth sent an angry look at Griphook, and spoke quickly. “You were in the care of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who provided you with family as you grew and guidance as you entered school.” 

Harry shot an angry look at Stonetooth. “No, actually, he didn’t.” He turned to Griphook. “Please explain what you meant.” 

“Dumbledore did indeed _take_ responsibility for you, but he was not your _legal_ guardian. Your legal guardians at the time of the attack were your godparents: Sirius Black, followed upon his arrest by Alice Longbottom, née Fortesque.” Griphook nodded politely at Neville before turning back to Harry. 

“I see.” Harry sat quietly for a moment. Dumbledore had taken him from his rightful guardians, one of whom was imprisoned illegally and never cleared. The other was permanently incapacitated a few short months later. He wondered if the Longbottoms had asked Dumbledore about him. He hoped so. 

“Account Manager Stonetooth,” Harry turned to the goblin. If Griphook’s hints had been correct, this was a very untrustworthy goblin. “When precisely, as in what date, did you become the Potter Account Manager?” 

“You were a mere baby,” came the low grumbled reply. 

“I asked for the date.” Harry’s eyes were stone cold and hard as he looked at Stonetooth. He already knew the date. He had noticed the strange appointment, and had added it to his list of questions. 

“The 22nd of November 1981.” Stonetooth was sounding very resentful. 

“Neville, I hate to ask you this, but it’s of some importance. What date was your family attacked?” Harry turned to his friend. He had already warned Neville about this, and they had planned for it. It was still unpleasant, but at least it wasn’t a surprise.

“December 18th.” Neville looked daggers at Stonetooth. “1981.” 

“I see. Thanks, Nev.” He turned back to the goblins, one was giving him a very wide smile in approbation. The other was looking decidedly shifty. “So, it must have been my godmother, Alice Longbottom, who appointed you, Stonetooth.” 

Stonetooth grumbled low in reply. Griphook, who had heard him, pressed a rune on the table which would call for goblin guards to enter the room. As soon as they did so, Harry, Luna, and Neville were held at spear point, and Griphook spoke up. 

“You are not to harm these wizards or this witch. Take this scum” he pushed Stonetooth forward, “before the Council, on accusation of fraud, theft, and mismanagement.” 

Harry, Neville, and Luna watched as the guard surrounded Stonetooth and marched him out of the room. Griphook settled back into his seat. “As the wronged party, it is your right to watch justice fall on his head, Young Lord. If you wish, you may bring your companions.” 

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and thanks. “Griphook, does the bank decide about a new account manager? I’d like it to be you, if you’re willing. You’re the only goblin I really trust here.” 

“Very well, Young Lord. I shall take up the position. You will need to sign this.” He put a single piece of parchment in front of Harry. It was the contract between the houses Harry held, and the Goblin Nation with Griphook as representative. He quickly read through the document, earning another smile of approval from Griphook. He was also given a blood quill, which he looked at in distaste. 

“I hate these things,” he muttered, flexing his hand, as the scars from his fifth year flared in remembered pain. He quickly scrawled out his full name, but left the titles off. There were just too many of them. He handed the contract back to Griphook, who took it with a smile. He also read through it, pressed his forefinger to the blood still gleaming in Harry’s signature, and the contract was sealed. 

“What previous experiences have you had with blood quills, Harry?” The goblin seemed very interested. “You haven’t been here to sign anything before now.” 

“Detention in my fifth year. I had to write lines.” Harry held his hand out for Griphook to examine. He swore quite extensively in gobbledegook. 

“I again make the offer of our magical health scan, Young Lord.” Griphook said, quietly. It was almost unheard of for goblins to offer more than once. “These scars may cause you issues in the future.” 

“Thank you, Griphook.” Harry took his hand back and returned to the list. “Maybe after this, there are more important things than old scars right now.” 

Griphook watched as the young wizard in front of him looked at the parchments in front of him. He has a feeling that this was just a delaying tactic and that Harry Potter knew exactly what he wanted to ask next. 

Sure enough, as Harry looked up, his eyes were determined and clear, and he asked without looking back down at the documents in front of him. “Did my parents have a will?” 

Griphook had both hoped for and feared this question. Harry needed to know, but the knowledge would be painful for him. For whatever reason, Griphook was quite fond of this strange wizard who showed respect and kindness to all who deserved it, regardless of status. He pressed a rune on the tabletop and spoke in gobbledegook. In a flash of flame, a large black folder appeared in front of him. It had a thick silver ribbon wrapped tightly around it, a large glob of white wax, pressed with the seal of the Wizengamot, keeping it closed. 

“They did, Harry.” Griphook began, “they came in together 6 months after your birth to create their will, and this is that document. It was illegally sealed shut the night after they died in a closed and confidential session of the Wizengamot. This is that seal.” He pointed disgustedly at the white wax. 

Harry touched the seal and felt a spark of magic in it. He looked back at Griphook with steel in his gaze. “Can we break it?” 

“You are the only one with the legal right to do so, and it could only be done after you came of age and accepted your titles.” Griphook pushed the folder a little closer to Harry. 

Harry took a deep breath. He wanted to know. He ran his hand over the folder and felt the binding magic in the seal. It looked innocuous: a wand holding up a pair of scales with a large M resting in them. The words surrounding the image read: “Ignorantia Juris Neminem Excusat.” He snarled at the words. There was no excuse for binding someone’s last words. He sent his own magic furiously racing through his palm and down into the wax, willing it away. The seal snapped in a straight line through the middle, and the two halves fell away. Harry took hold of the ribbon that still held the two wax pieces on either end, and set it aside. He would deal with the Wizengamot later. He carefully opened the will cover, laying it flat on the desk. 

The will had been written, as was tradition, in gold. Not gold colored ink, but actual gold, dissolved into a potion which made the words binding. A light glowed up from the words, the will lifted into the air, and Harry heard his father’s voice for the first time, with no dementor present: 

> I, James Fleamont Potter, declare this as my last will and testament, and all others before this should be disregarded. Excepting the following, I leave everything of which I die possessed to my son Harrison James Potter, to be held in trust by his mother, Lily Grace Potter, née Evans, till he reaches his majority. 
> 
> To Lily, you already have my everlasting love, you will receive a monthly stipend from the Potter vault as guardian of our heir, and upon his majority, access to the dowager vault and your choice of properties. Take care of our peanut, Lily. I love you both.
> 
> To Sirius Orion Black, you old SOB. If Lily’s gone too, which we all know might happen in this war, I’m leaving you the most precious thing I have. Take care of Harry, raise him to be better than we were, smarter than Remus, and sneakier than even Snape. If you do end up responsible for him, you’ll have access to the guardian’s account, and I’m also leaving you the contents of my old school trunk. Make sure Harry sees the good stuff.
> 
> To Remus John Lupin, my apologies. We should have trusted you better and not let foolish prejudice get in the way. We all three of us love you. Help Padfoot and Lily with Harry, will you? I’m leaving you the house out on the North Moors. You know which one. There’s plenty of space up there to run. I’ve also set up vault 703 for you. The laws are wicked and wrong, but they are the laws. It will only ever have 500 galleons in it, but it will also always have 500 galleons in it. And don’t argue with me, just take it and live, Moony. 
> 
> To Peter Alan Pettigrew, on condition I die of natural causes or accident, the contents of vault 700. There’s enough in there to live peacefully and happily for the rest of your life, Pete. You also have my thanks for standing in and keeping us safe. If I should die at the hand of Lord Voldemort, or under attack from any of his forces, I leave you only my curse upon the rest of your life, you miserable traitorous rat. 
> 
> To Severus Tobias Snape, I leave my sincere apologies. You were right— we were arrogant and cruel, and I regret it more than I can say. I also leave you access to the potions and library vaults, take what you wish from both, and share the knowledge with others. 
> 
> To Minerva M. McGonagall, who never did tell me what the M stood for, you have my love and my eternal gratitude for your guidance and your tolerance. Help Sirius and Lily with Harry, would you, Aunt Minnie? Especially if Lily’s gone too, you know Sirius. Harry will need an adult in his life. I leave you access to the library vaults. I know you’ll enjoy them. 
> 
> To Harrison James Potter, my son. I leave you everything else. You’re only six months old at the moment, and I love you more than anything. Just watching you spit up mushy broccoli makes me happy, my son. I never want to leave you, and I hope I have the chance to see you grow, but if not, always remember that I am proud of you, I love you, and I will always be watching out for you. Live a full and happy life, Harry. 
> 
> Should Harrison and Lily die with me, I leave the entirety of my estate and all titles associated with it to Sirius Orion Black.
> 
> Guardianship of Harrison belongs to, in order: Lily Grace Potter, née Evans, Sirius Orion Black, Alice Susanna Longbottom, née Fortesque, Severus Tobias Snape, Minerva M. McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Amelia Susan Bones, or any loving magical family, having proven they are not aligned with Voldemort. 
> 
> Harrison is never to be given to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Petunia Rose Dursley, née Evans, or Peter Alan Pettigrew (should he betray us). 
> 
> The Secret Keeper of our home is Peter Alan Pettigrew, at the insistence of the Fidelius Charm binder, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. 
> 
> So say I, James Fleamont Potter, so mote it be.

A flare of magic accompanied the last statement, and the will fell silent and settled back into the folder. Harry felt numb. He realized he’d been holding Luna’s hand, but he didn’t think she’d mind. He thought of all those people named in the will who were dead and would never know what his father had done for them. All those people who could have taken him in, and he’d been sent to the damn Dursleys. He didn’t realize he was crying till Neville handed him a handkerchief. He mopped himself up and turned an apologetic glance toward Griphook. He didn’t suppose that goblins much cared for human emotions. 

“Not to worry, Young Lord. It is quite understandable.” Griphook nodded solemnly. “When you are ready.” 

Harry took a deep breath and swiped once more under his eyes. The next was going to be more difficult, he thought, as he pushed his magic once more at the black folder, and his mother’s will lifted into the air and her voice could be heard clear and strong in the stone chamber. 

> I, Lily Grace Potter, née Evans, declare this as my last will and testament, and all others before this should be disregarded. Excepting the following, I leave everything of which I die possessed to my son Harrison James Potter, held in trust for him by his father. 
> 
> To James, though I know he will be gone before I am, I leave you all my love and a warning to raise Harry right. I will be watching you both, and if you think you can turn him into another little hellion, I will haunt you till the end of your days. Now, I expect you to say, “yes dear” with that stupid smile you think always got you your way. I did like seeing it, Love, but it never worked. 
> 
> To Alice Susanna Longbottom, née Fortesque, I leave you, with Sirius, of course, the care and keeping of my greatest treasure. Raise our boys well, my friend, and know that I love you. I’m also leaving you access to the Potter greenhouses (James already knows and approves), and the necklace of aquamarines that you love. 
> 
> To Severus Tobias Snape, I leave you my forgiveness, though I hardly feel worthy. You’ve asked for it so often, know that it was always yours. I’m so sorry it took this long, and my death, but we have both always been rather stubborn. I’m leaving you my little boy, Sev, in case the others can’t watch over him. I know it’ll be dangerous for you, but do try, please? You’re a good man, and you’ll raise him well. 
> 
> To Neville Franklin Longbottom, I leave you my love and a bunch of letters and things in Vault 702. I set it up when your mother asked me to be your godmother, and I want you to know who I was, so you’ll always know you are loved. There are gifts in there for all your birthdays and Yuletides, a letter for you when you start Hogwarts, when you finish, when you marry, well, you’ll see. It’s all in there. I wish I could have watched you grow up, my dear, but I will keep a close eye on you regardless. I hope you and Harry can build as strong a friendship as your mother and I did, but I won’t force it. Just be yourself, Neville. You will always be enough. 
> 
> To Harrison James Potter, my treasure. You are the best thing I ever did, my son, and I love you more than my next breath. I’m leaving you everything else, not that it’s much. There’s a vault of letters for you, as well, number 701, a few pieces of jewelry, and my old school things. Live the best life you can, my little man, and know that your mother loves you. Always.
> 
> Should Harrison and James die with me, I leave the entirety of my estate and all titles associated with it to Alice Susanna Longbottom, née Fortesque.
> 
> Guardianship of Harrison belongs to, in order: James Fleamont Potter, Sirius Orion Black, Alice Susanna Longbottom, née Fortesque, Severus Tobias Snape, Minerva M. McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Amelia Susan Bones, or any loving magical family, having proven they are not aligned with Voldemort. 
> 
> Harrison is never to be given to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Petunia Rose Dursley, née Evans, or Peter Alan Pettigrew (should he betray us). 
> 
> The Secret Keeper of our home is Peter Alan Pettigrew, at the insistence of the Fidelius Charm binder, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. 
> 
> So say I, Lily Grace Potter, née Evans, so mote it be.

The flare of magic this time was slightly brighter, the sign that Lily had died after James, and thus her will would settle any disagreement between the two. But it was unnecessary, they had taken care of every detail and planned for all the eventualities. The only thing they didn’t count on was Albus freaking Dumbledore. Harry leaned his head against Neville’s shoulder. “Godbrothers” he whispered. 

“Godbrothers” came the reply, just as soft. 

Harry straightened up and pulled himself together. “Griphook,” he began. “Thank you for allowing us time, but we have further business to discuss, especially now.” 

“Indeed, we do, Young Lord.” Griphook’s smile got extra-toothy again. “What is your next question?” 

“First, I need to know how Dumbledore got access to my accounts. I realize he sealed the wills so that no one would know he wasn’t to have power over me, but even so, even had he been my legal guardian, he was taking money and items out of all the Potter vaults. The Poitiers, Aquitaine, and Iceni vaults, too. How could he have done that? Even as my guardian, he should have only had access to one vault for my upkeep, right?” Harry wanted explanations. It made no sense how the vault security of Gringotts could have failed so spectacularly. “Also, and relatedly, why are the automatic payments still going into his vaults? He’s been dead for over a year, why wasn’t it stopped?”

“Those are two very different questions, Harry. First, I suspect that Stonetooth had rather a lot to do with the unauthorized vault access. His trial will be held soon.” Griphook had a look of grim satisfaction at the thought of the justice to be delivered. He was quite intimidating. “As to the second, it is my duty to tell you that Albus Dumbledore is not dead.” 

“Not dead?” Harry looked at the goblin, wondering if he still had all his faculties about him. “I saw him hit with the avada curse, and even if that didn’t somehow kill him, he then fell from the astronomy tower and was buried. To top it off, I saw his corpse, when Voldemort broke into the tomb to steal his wand. Griphook, he’s really dead.” 

“No, Harry. He is not. I don’t know who it was you saw on the tower or in the tomb, but it was not Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who is very much alive and living quite well at your expense.” Griphook gestured at the account books.

Harry thought back to that horrible night in the cave. There were plenty of moments when Harry wasn’t actually watching Dumbledore. What was it though? Polyjuice to create a lookalike, and then the Imperius curse to get him to act like Dumbledore? He cursed. It was possible, Harry supposed, but why bother? What had been the result? Well, Snape sure had a rough time of it after that, so had he, for that matter. And actually, it had been that experience— the cave, the tower, Dumbledore’s death— which had convinced him finally to go after the horcruxes on his own. He had felt so alone in those moments, the entire burden of the war falling on his shoulders. Was that what Dumbledore had wanted? 

“How do you know he’s still alive?” Harry asked, finally. “Has he contacted the bank?”

“Gringotts goblins always know when a witch or wizard dies, as it has a profound effect on their vaults. The moment anyone with a vault dies, that vault is sealed until the reading of the will and the proper disbursement of their wealth.” 

“Except when it’s my parents,” Harry grumbled, but hoped no one heard. Griphook overlooked his mumbling as he really did have a point. The bank was in error. 

“Therefore the bank knows absolutely and finally when magical beings meet their final end. We knew of your death, as it happens, Harry,” Griphook continued. “But as you managed to survive your death, your vaults were reopened. That has never happened before. Nevertheless, a wizard is not dead until it is Gringotts certified.”

“And Dumbledore isn’t.” Harry surmised. 

“Dumbledore isn’t.” Griphook repeated. 

Harry fell into thought. He looked again at his list of suspicious transactions and something clicked. “He’s not the only one, is he? He’s got others.”

“Others?”

“Other witches and wizards, who have been reported dead, but who aren’t. Look at this list of account activity. There are a lot of “dead” people here who are getting paid out of the Potter accounts. Look here, see? Alastor Moody is, for some bizarre reason, being paid a monthly amount of galleons out of three of the Poitiers’ vaults.” Harry thought about all the people he’d seen or known to be dead. 

“Alastor Moody is still alive.” Griphook confirmed.

“He is?” Harry’s mind was spinning. “What about everybody else? Madam Bones? Emmeline Vance?”

“Madam Amelia Bones is deceased. Emmeline Vance is alive.” Griphook replied. 

Harry exchanged looks with Luna and Neville. This was crazy, wasn’t it? How could these people still be alive? Where were they? What were they waiting for? “What about Fabian or Gideon Prewitt? Um, the McKinnon family? Benji Fenwick?” Harry mentioned those he remembered from the original Order of the Phoenix, and more hesitantly, “And Cedric Diggory, is he still alive?”

“The Prewitts and the McKinnon family are dead, but Mr. Fenwick is alive. Mr. Cedric Diggory is also dead, though he only had access to the Diggory heir vault, it was still recorded.” Griphook said. 

“I see,” Harry took a deep breath. The next ones were going to be the most difficult to ask about. “What about Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, or Mrs. Lovegood?” He shot a glance and a whispered “sorry!” at Luna, but she squeezed his hand. 

“It’s all right, Harry. It’s better to know for certain.” She smiled at him, and kept hold of his hand.

“Those three individuals are all deceased.” Griphook’s voice took on a slightly apologetic tone, but Harry continued on relentlessly.

“Tom Riddle? Gellert Grindlewald?” 

“Riddle is dead. Grindlewald lives.” 

“He what?” Harry wasn’t sure of anything any more. Even the visions Voldemort put in his head had been manipulated. 

“What about Severus Snape, Colin Creavey, Lavender Brown, Vincent Crabbe or Bellatrix Lestrange?” Neville spoke up. He really hoped Bellatrix was dead. 

“Snape is alive. The rest are dead.” Griphook was growing impatient with this game. If the Young Lord was not involved, with his vaults paying many of these people, he would never have divulged Gringotts information. 

Harry realized their questions were beginning to annoy Griphook. “Sorry, Griphook, it’s just very surprising information.”

“Understood, Young Lord.” Griphook nodded in acknowledgment of the apology. “Do you have further questions on your list?”

“I do, but I’m not sure that Gringotts will have the answers. And most of them I can guess at anyway,” Harry handed the list to Griphook with a shrug. 

Griphook’s eyes gleamed as they traveled down the list of questions. He smirked at a few and nodded carefully at others. “You are right, Harry, I can help you with but a few factual answers to these questions. I will tell you that based on the information revealed today, I suspect your conclusions to be right. Be that as it may, however, your question 3 has a simple answer: The Flamels did not trust Dumbledore with the philosopher’s stone. The Stone they sent, which was hidden in Vault 713, was a false stone. I imagine that the Flamels have far more secure defenses around the stone than any first year could defeat. Question 10, I trust has also been answered for you today.” Griphook looked up at Harry.

“Yes,” Harry answered grimly. Dumbledore had chosen Pettigrew as secret keeper. He wondered at how deep the betrayal would go before they reached the end. 

“I can assist with the questions regarding your scar and your torture under the blood quill as well, if you wish it,” Griphook again looked toward Harry. “Gringotts offers certain of its patrons a scan of their magical and physical health. We also offer healing, if possible. I don’t promise answers to your questions, but it may put you on the path toward finding them yourself.”

“I’d like that, I think.” Harry nodded. “Neville and Luna, too.” 

They both looked up at him with questions in their eyes. “Why us, Harry?” Neville sounded hesitant. 

“Well, I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to, but I think it’s a good idea. I saw Dumbledore die, but he’s not dead. I’m not sure what he did to my head regarding that, but he may have done it to you, too.” 

“We’ll do it, Harry.” Luna smiled at him. “You should talk to Snape, too.” 

“I should?” 

“Harry,” Neville spoke up. “I agree with Luna. I’ll do the health scan because what you said makes sense, and Snape still scares me silly, but if he’s still alive, he might know about Dumbledore. And if he listens to the wills, and sees your questions, well, he was a miserable teacher and horrible to you, but he was logical and he’s spent your whole life trying to keep you alive. It’ll be worth it.” 

Harry nodded. They made sense. “Griphook, can Gringotts get in touch with Severus Snape in some way? Ask him to meet an anonymous Lord who wishes to invest in a new potions venture?” 

“I believe that may work. I suggest meeting him in one of the bank’s conference rooms, which will prevent any magicks other than goblin and which can be layered with secrecy spells.” 

“That would be perfect, thank you Griphook.” Harry was still worried about this. Severus Snape was not his biggest fan, but they all deserved answers. 

“It shall be done. If you are ready for your health scan, you may follow me to the healing halls.” Griphook stood and led the way out of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully it gets a bit more interesting soon....  
> And, if you’re playing along with my chapter titles, the next one is from “I want to know what love is” by Foreigner


	5. In my life, there’s been heartache and pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Luna, and Neville see the goblin healers. More truths are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Some mild mentions of PTSD, sexual assault on a child and self-harm. Nothing graphic, I promise, they are included as part of a health report, but do take care of yourself if this is an issue for you. Skipping the health report will not change the story.

As they wandered through stone hallways, Harry’s head kept turning. There were so many areas and spaces they were passing; it couldn’t all be bank offices, could it? 

“Griphook, can I ask why a bank would have a hospital wing?” Harry had been a bit confused by the offer of healing. What did that have to do with gold?

Griphook paused. This wizard and these two friends of his were different than the typical humans he had to deal with, but he still wasn’t about to give away bank secrets. Harry’s status as favored patron would magically seal the confidential information away. The other two, though, he wasn’t sure about. 

“Gringotts is part of the Goblin Nation, but it is not the entirety of it. The Nation is a nation. We have hospitals, schools, internal government, treaties with your world, and a culture of our own.” Griphook raised his head. He was proud of his heritage. 

“Wow!” Harry looked suitably impressed. “I never knew. Binns should teach that stuff instead of just rebellions all the time. It’s all we are taught about goblins, well, that and the bank.”

“When you step into Gringotts, you enter foreign territory. We have agreed, through treaty after war, to honor your laws, but they are wizarding laws, not goblin.” Griphook continued down the hallway. 

Harry exchanged a look with Neville and Luna, “Are the goblin laws very different than the wizarding ones?” He started to feel slightly nervous. How could he obey laws if he didn’t know about them? 

“Yes.” Griphook stopped shortly outside a large set of double doors. “But fear not, only wizarding law is enforced in the public areas of the bank.” He grinned darkly. 

Harry got more worried. “Is the hospital area a public area?” 

Griphook was more and more impressed with this wizard. He was showing respect by asking his questions, rather than making demands, and he sought knowledge. Goblins may be fond of gold, but that was nothing compared to how they felt about knowledge. All branches and forms of knowledge or training were respected by the goblins; they did not restrict learning in any way. All goblin young were educated for decades before they were considered adults and ready to join the Nation in a career.

“It is not, Young Lord, but fear not. You need only follow the instructions of the healers within. They will not allow you to disregard our law.” Griphook held open the door on the left and to allow his three charges to enter. He spoke in rapid gobbledegook and a healer approached. Harry, Neville, and Luna bowed in greeting. “This is Lead Healer Grothin. He will run the scans to ensure your physical, mental and magical health. He will provide you the results and discuss any healing before it takes place. Do what he says.” 

The healer’s voice was like listening to water flow over stones in a river. Harry suspected it to be the accent of gobbledegook on English, but as it was perfectly understandable, he said nothing about it. They were directed to separate cubicles lining one wall of the room and told to wear nothing but what they found in the drawer. 

Harry pulled on his blue robe with some consternation. It felt very strange to be wearing nothing underneath it but a pair of soft cloth slippers. Even though he was covered head to foot, he still felt very exposed. Luna and Neville emerged from their cubicles at about the same time he did. Luna seemed as unaffected as ever, but Neville was giving him shifty looks as he tugged at the robe sleeves. 

The scan used goblin magic and included stones from deep within the mines below the bank. They were each accompanied by a healer and told to select the specific stones that called to them from a massive collection which dominated one of the walls of the room. There were three sections, relating first to physical health, then mental and emotional health, and finally magical health. Harry felt a connection to three stones from each of the first two sections, but only one very large clear quartz from section of stones pertaining to magical health. He pointed them out to the healer, who removed them from the wall. 

Luna had chosen one stone from each section, a rose quartz, a turquoise, and a perfectly spherical citrine. Neville had found some tiger’s eye stones that he connected with, and picked both, along with a large piece of obsidian and a raw diamond. 

Once they all had their stones, the goblin healers arranged them in circles upon the ground. Each of them was made to stand within the circle of their own stones, while the goblins sang at them from the four corners of the room. Harry was surprised. He never would have guessed from their speaking voices that the goblins could sing, but a low, melodious sound began to fill the room. 

As the song filled the air, so too did the goblin magic. It sparked in the corners and built up along the walls. He felt the heat of it, and its choking power as it pressed in on him from all sides. He was struggling to keep his feet as it licked into his brain and filled his core. It grew as smoky and thick as ash before washing through him from his head to his feet, and settling into the crystals around him. 

The goblin magic supported all three humans as they fell unconscious and lifted them into the recovery beds. Meanwhile, the crystals were examined for the results of the scan. Head Healer Grothin was incensed as he read through the Young Potter Lord’s scan. Lord Longbottom likewise had many issues related to abuse. The young Seer had not been abused by family, but also suffered damage from the recent wizards’ war. The parchments were sealed up with a Gringotts mark, waiting for their recipients.

When Harry woke up, he had a pounding head and a very dry mouth, but there was a headache potion and a tall glass of water next to his bed, so it certainly could have been worse. He quickly downed both, sitting up in bed, and looking over to Neville and Luna. They were also sitting up. “Been awake long?” He asked. 

Luna smiled at him. “I got up first, then Neville about 10 minutes later. We’ve been waiting for you for the last half hour. The healer said it might be a while, but I’m glad you woke up now.” 

“They should have our test results, by now, anyway.” Neville said, looking over to one of the inside doors. Harry supposed there were other treatment rooms or offices back there. 

Sure enough, Lead Healer Grothin emerged holding three scrolls. He passed one over to each of them, and they moved to all share Luna’s bed, leaning on one another for support. 

_ Healing Report for Harry James Potter, Lord Potter Black Aquitaine Poitiers Gaunt Iceni Peverell Gryffindor Slytherin Emrys Mors _

Lead Healer Grothin & team

Physical health

Summary: Subject is in overall poor physical health, a result of childhood abuse, war, and creature damage. The malnutrition has reached a critical point, and must be addressed immediately to avoid further damage. Subject has not reached age-appropriate developmental stages (ie. growth spurts, muscle development, etc) due to lack of basic nutrition as a child, including occasional bouts of starvation and fasting. Scarring indicates whips of some kind were used upon his person repeatedly. Scar tissue will need ongoing treatment. Scars upon hand and head were formed by magic, and require cleansing. Scars upon forearms indicate poor emotional health. Creature wounds will have far reaching effects upon the subject’s physical health unless neutralized. Blood magic may be necessary to balance the oppositional elements. Scans indicate that subject has died and been revived. Side effects of this are, at this time, unclear. 

Main health concerns: 

  * Ongoing malnutrition, evidence of refeeding syndrome 
  * 23 misaligned bone breaks
  * Concussions: 4 mild, 11 moderate, 2 severe
  * Sexual assault
  * Extensive scarring on back, buttocks, chest, side
  * Mild scarring on hand, head, forearms, thigh 
  * Basilisk venom
  * Dragon fire burn scars
  * Acromantula venom
  * Phoenix tears
  * Fiendfyre exposure
  * Death & Revival



Mental/Emotional Health

Summary: Subject has been stripped of any self-esteem or self-worth he may once have had. He is in mourning for several persons, and indicates feelings of betrayal over others. He is experiencing a moderate level of depression, which if untreated may become self-destructive. He has a number of coping mechanisms, some healthy some not. He is also struggling to accept a number of recent shocks. 

Main health concerns: 

  * Grief
  * Depression
  * PTSD
  * Low self-worth
  * Co-dependence
  * Shock



Magical Health

Summary: Subject has been severely magically abused. From around age 3, he has been obliviated, confunded, and had false memories implanted. His mind also bears evidence of the imperius curse, which he has both succumbed to and resisted at different times and under different spell-casters. He has been the subject of multiple tracking charms, a strong love potion, and a magical siphon. The cruciatus curses he has been held under have left his magic scarred and bruised. Exposure to dementors, a blood quill, mind rape, and possession have further damaged his core and added to the mental health concerns listed above. 

Main health concerns: 

  * 14 obliviations before the age of 11
  * 22 obliviations before the age of 17
  * Multiple confundus charms
  * False memories
  * 4 tracking spells
  * Amortentia consumption
  * Core bruising
  * Magical scarring on hand and head
  * Magical residues from an incomplete possession
  * Magical siphon, at 20% of core strength



Harry shuddered at seeing everything that had happened to him laid out on parchment. Looking at all that, all at once like that, it was overwhelming. He hadn’t really been that bad, had he? Why were the phoenix tears listed as a problem? Weren’t they healing him? And he didn’t think he was depressed. Not really. Everybody got sad from time to time. He pressed the inside of his left arm close to his body. It wasn’t like he really wanted to die or anything. And why had he been obliviated so many times. He didn’t remember that! 

Not even a full ten seconds after that thought, he felt like an idiot. That’s the point, genius. Something went wrong there. He wondered what he didn’t know about his life. And what was this amortentia thing? He wasn’t in love with anybody. He checked his feelings again, just to be sure. Nope, not in love at all. Maybe he was immune? 

He looked up from his page to find the lead healer watching him closely. “You should be dead now, Young Lord.” 

“I got better.” He tried to joke, but wasn’t sure whether goblins had a sense of humor. It fell flat, especially when Neville and Luna looked up from their own reports to cast worried looks at him. “Can you fix all this?” 

The Lead Healer looked closely at all three of them, “We can repair the damage still affecting you, yes.” That was a relief, Harry thought. “However, you should know that the mental and emotional concerns cannot be magically fixed. Diagnosed, yes, but they will require the services of a mind healer, time, and your cooperation, before they can be considered under control. The physical and magical damages can be repaired, and we will begin when the healers are able. They, too, need to rest and prepare. Meanwhile, you will stay in bed. The scan is taxing on you physically, emotionally and magically. You all must rest.” 

Harry nodded. That all sounded logical. He wished the mental stuff would get fixed quickly, too, but the mind is a tricky thing, he supposed. “We’ll rest. Does the Goblin Nation have mind healers on retainer here, or should we contact Mungo’s. I don’t particularly care whether I speak to a goblin or a human as long as I get healed.” His nose wrinkled up at the thought of going to St. Mungo’s. He knew his business would be splashed all over the prophet. Again. If it got out that he was visiting a mind healer, they’d tear into him. Again. 

“The Goblin Nation has mind healers, though they are rarely sought by humans.” 

“I would like to set up meetings with one, who will accept a human client.” Harry said immediately. Somehow he’d gotten over the questioning phase of seeing his results, and was now determined to fix himself as quickly as possible. 

Luna and Neville nodded, and Luna spoke up, “Us too, please.”

“Very well.” Grothin nodded and tapped a rune on the wall, and then added the information to the files he had built for them. The room stretched and changed until each of their beds were sectioned off away from the main room, with screens that could be pulled forward or back depending on whether they wanted privacy or not from one another. “You will rest now.” 

“Thank you, Healer Grothin.” Harry felt relieved that at least he could solve at least some of his problems. 

Harry and his friends exchanged glances with one another. Neville’s fingers were twisting in his lap and he had bitten his lower lip bloody. “You should be dead, Harry? What did he mean?” 

Harry took a deep breath and passed his results over to Neville. His stomach was tied in knots, and he drew his knees up to his chest and lay his head down on them. He watched Neville’s face grow colder and his knuckles turn white. “Harry?” He sounded strangled, and passed the parchment over to Luna. “What happened to you?”

“A lot of the physical and emotional stuff was because of the Dursleys,” he began. “You knew I hated it there, Nev. It really wasn’t a healthy place for children. I asked to leave every year, but Dumbledore kept sending me back. The Weasleys would rescue me after about a month, usually, and well, then there was Hogwarts.” Harry’s voice trailed away. He’d wanted to say that he escaped the abuse when he was at school, but looking at that list again, it wasn’t true. He’d been magically abused rather than physically. “You know how that went.” 

“Actually, Harry, I don’t. Neither of us do. Ron would brag about some of it, but whether that was true or not, I don’t know. I know what happened in public, like the tournament, but basilisks? Acromantulas?” 

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled. “Ron wouldn’t have mentioned them. He spent most of his time trying to forget about Hagrid’s oldest “friend.” There’s a nest of them in the forest. We ran into them in second year and barely escaped with our lives. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Weasley’s car living wild in there, we would have been spider chow. But I think the reason they’re on the list is that one bit me in the maze in fourth year, just before I took the cup and ended up in the graveyard.” 

“Merlin, Harry! That’s…” Neville broke off. 

Harry smiled over at his friend. “Yeah, it is. Still, it’s not the worst thing on the list, yeah. Don’t worry about me, Nev. Besides, we’re going to get it all fixed, right?” 

Neville shook his head. “Right. Well, you might as well see mine, too then.” He passed his page over with a shrug.

_ Healing Report for Neville Franklin Longbottom, Lord Longbottom _

Lead Healer Grothin and team

Physical Health

Summary: Subject is in poor physical health, largely due to what appears to be torture and abuse sustained in the last year. Internal bruising and scar tissue is impeding organ function, and must be corrected as soon as possible. Subject also demonstrates a lingering weakness in the left ear as a result of a near drowning in childhood. 

Main Health Concerns: 

  * Broken and misaligned right hand and all fingers
  * Contusions
  * Organ damage
  * Vision damage
  * Hearing loss



Mental/Emotional Health

Summary: Subject is suffering survivor’s guilt and PTSD. Neither is an immediate health risk, but if left untreated will fester into more serious issues. 

Main Health Concerns: 

  * Misplaced guilt
  * PTSD
  * Mild depression
  * Low self-esteem



Magical Health

Summary: Subject has been severely magically abused from the time when he was in utero. His magic has been damaged both by potion and by a non-allegiant wand. The potion, which has no antidote, held his magical development back by several years, making his magical education an impossible challenge, exacerbated by a wand which did not choose him. He has been confunded at least once a month since his 11th birthday. Within the last year, his magic has grown in power, but his core has been scarred by repeated exposure to the cruciatus curse. He endured a long-term strain on his magic of unknown origin; it appears to be treatable with magic replenishers. 

Main Health Concerns: 

  * New wand, urgent and essential
  * Confundus damage
  * False Memories
  * Core scarring



Harry was shaking with rage by the time he reached the end of Neville’s parchment. He knew who had been throwing around confundus charms at school, and he knew well why Neville was partially deaf and had a non compliant wand. He looked up at his godbrother, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Neville,” he called to catch his eye. “Neither of us got the family we deserved, but we’re going to get better in spite of them. I’m your family now.” 

Luna shared her results, too. “We are all going to be family. Siblings, I think.” She smiled at them both and they smiled back. 

_ Healing Report for Luna Claire Lovegood _

Lead Healer Grothin and team

Physical health

Summary: Subject suffers from lingering ill health, including starvation, Vitamin deficiencies, organ damage, and torture, but shows signs of improvement in recent months. 

Main Health Concerns:

  * Deficiencies of Vitamins D, B
  * Bruising on spleen



Mental/Emotional Health

Summary: Subject retains mental fitness, but suffers from claustrophobia and PTSD. Recommend mind healing. 

Magical Health

Summary: Most seriously, Subject is a Seer, whose Sight has been bound. Subject is further suffering a magical siphon, and has some core bruising due to Cruciatus exposure. 

Main health concerns: 

  * Binding
  * Siphon 15%
  * Core bruising
  * False memories. 



Harry was not surprised to learn that Luna was a Seer, she had always known things no one else could. He suspected that her strange creatures were part of that. They helped her cope with a gift she was only partly free to use. He smiled at her, “We’ll get it all sorted, Sister.” 

Luna beamed at him. “Yes, Harry. We will.” 

Neville looked across the beds at both of them, “I think we all suspect who is behind most of these things. And Harry, he’s at least partly to blame for your family, too. He left you there when he had no right to.” 

Harry sighed and nodded. “You’re right, and knowing he’s still alive out there, stealing my money and my magic to live— I want him. I want to destroy everything about him. For doing that to you, to Luna, to me. The world should know. They think he’s a wonderful old grandfather, but he’s vile.”

Neville met his eyes with grim determination. “I”m in. Whatever you need, Harry. We’ll get him. First, we’ll get better. Get all these siphons and blocks off and get our memories back. Then, we’ll talk to Snape. He has to know more about the old man than we do.”

“What if he’s part of it, Nev?” Harry had a horrible thought. “What if they’re stashed away somewhere together plotting on how to kill me, since Voldemort didn’t do the job permanently.”

Neville sat for a while, deep in thought, but it was Luna who spoke up, “I don’t think he is, Harry. He always tried to save your life. He tried to save us from the Carrows. I think he’s just a miserable man, trapped into helping Dumbledore. He—” she paused, her eyes somewhere in the middle distance, “He has binds of his own.” 

Neville spoke up. “We show him the health reports and the financial reports. None of the money was going into his vault. If we show him what kind of man Dumbledore really is, maybe he’ll be able to break away from him. He doesn’t need to help us, just to stop helping him.” 

“Okay, we’ll still meet him, if you both think it’s safe.” 

Luna suddenly made a grab for his hand. It was lucky that the beds were so close together. “Harry! The Weasleys!” 

“What about them?” Harry asked. 

“I think, um, I think the Weasleys, at least most of them, will need to have a health scan.” She looked up at him with an unusual urgency filling her face. 

Harry squeezed her hand, and set it down. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go now and ask Griphook about arranging it.” He got up off his bed and stepped out into the main healing room. 

Healer Grothin was there organizing parchment scrolls and turned around. “You are to be resting, Young Lord.” 

“Yes, I was, but I need to speak with my account manager rather urgently, if possible.” 

The healer looked closely at Harry for several long minutes. “Go lay down, I will summon him here.”

When Griphook arrived, looking a bit put out, Harry thanked him for coming. “It’s business, at least, Griphook.” He tried a smile. “I’d like to arrange to pay the fee for a health scan and any healing necessary for Arthur Weasley and his family, providing that they are willing to take the test, of course. Would you please notify them of this, and take the related fees necessary from the Potter account?” 

Griphook looked marginally more cheerful at the thought of the transaction, “Very well, Young Lord, it shall be done.” He turned to leave, but looked back. “And Potions Master Snape has agreed to your meeting. He will be here tomorrow, around midday, after your healing.” 

“Thank you, again, Manager Griphook.” Harry nodded at him, which was the best he could do from bed. Tomorrow was going to be busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Thanks for reading. I hope you’re enjoying it, even though there’s one more bank chapter to survive. We’re nearly out of Gringotts! Things will start moving a little faster after that. 
> 
> No idea if anybody cares about the next chapter title, but I stole it from Depeche Mode’s People are People. The chapter will feature our favorite grumpy bastard of a potions professor.


	6. Why should it be that you and I should get along so awfully?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still in Gringotts, the trio wakes all healed, meets with Snape, and witnesses goblin justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Harry’s working through some self-esteem stuff with a mind healer, and there’s a mention of a beheading during the goblin trial. Please read with caution if those things are likely to bother you.

Harry had never felt better. It turned out that goblin healing was nothing like wizard healing, and instead of a potion or an extended stay with Madam Pomfrey, Harry, Luna, and Neville had been healed while they slept. Exhausted after the scans and their discussion, the three had gone to bed quite early. As they slept, the goblins worked more goblin magic, and they woke up feeling better and stronger than ever. With more energy and less pain than he had ever experienced in his life, Harry had jumped out of bed and would have hugged Healer Grothin, if the look on his face hadn’t been terrifying. 

“Yes, yes,” he grumbled. “You are healed, but you’ll stay in bed and eat your breakfast first. The mind healer you requested will be here in a little more than an hour.”

Harry sobered at that news, but as he stretched and twisted at the waist a few times, he marveled at how good he felt. 

Grothin watched him, to make sure he didn’t reinjure himself. “You will take care with your mind and your magic, if you please. You have had 36 obliviations undone, which is unheard of. I’m not entirely sure how you will react to the recovered memories, nor the false ones having been removed.”

Harry sat on the bed and sorted through his thoughts. “It’s bizarre. There are decisions I made based on those memories. I can feel the echoes of them, but now that I know they are false, the motivations for my actions feel so wrong.”

The healer nodded. “Meditation will help with some of that. It will take time for you to reorganize your mind, and if I may recommend, you should build some barriers in there as well. I know you have been assaulted in your mind, but occlumency can be learned in other ways, and it is a beneficial skill to have.” 

Harry nodded. He’d felt the beginnings of it during the final battle; he knew he would rather have a protected organized mind than the chaotic mess it currently was, but he would never again willingly stand still and let anyone rip into his head. “I understand, thank you. Do you have any books to recommend on the subject?” 

“They are in the library. Ask your account manager for access.” 

Harry smiled his thanks for the information, already wondering about the goblin library. What on earth would be in it? Did Hermione know? Then, he remembered Hermione. Unfortunately some of the new memories featured her, usually pointing her wand at him. She had been behind a lot of the obliviations, and he’d caught her out a few times with books stamped with the Potter crest. Merlin! He’d discovered her betrayal, and she just compounded it by erasing his memories. His gut twisted a bit. She had also hidden the truth from him in Godric’s Hollow. Her story after he woke had been flawless, but in reality he’d been awake. He had learned the truth of Dumbledore in Bathilda’s house, but she’d cursed him and, his thoughts trailed away, he wanted to vomit. He just hoped Ron hadn’t been part of it, too. 

Looking over at the other beds, he noticed Luna was beginning to wake, and Neville was rolling over. He smiled sadly. He had lost his illusions, but he had gained true friends now, at least. He stood up and asked Grothin about somewhere to clean up. The goblin pointed to one of the doors in the far wall, and Harry scooted inside a rather utilitarian bathroom. He unshrunk his muggle-style suitcase and spent the next minutes getting ready for the day. 

He emerged in tight jeans which had been intentionally ripped around the knees, with a large black leather belt, a shirt with “The Smiths” on the front, his leather jacket and boots. He’d seen some of the guys on the street wearing all this and a plaid shirt tied around their waists, but he thought one shirt would do. 

He smiled at Luna, who wandered into the bathroom after him, and looked up at Neville. “Are you all right, Nev? If you need anything, feel free to borrow what you like from here.” He handed over the case, knowing that Neville probably hadn’t packed anything to visit the bank. “I feel fantastic!” He enthused. 

“Yeah, me too. I can feel my magic! It’s like it’s filling me up and flowing along with my blood.” Neville looked excited. “Is this how it’s supposed to feel?” 

“I think so. I’m the same.” Harry smiled. “Like what was missing has finally come back, yeah?” Neville nodded. 

Once they were all ready (Neville had borrowed one of Harry’s turtlenecks and a pair of faded black jeans, which he had to lengthen), and had eaten breakfast, the mindhealer arrived. 

Healer Grothin introduced the Mind-healer, who led them into another part of the healing halls. The room had actual sofas, and comfortable chairs. Harry smiled. They were the first comfortable chairs he had encountered in the bank. He looked up for a moment and the healer winked as though she knew what he was thinking. 

Healer Talon was unlike any other goblin Harry, Neville, or Luna had met. She wore a skirted business suit and a fierce expression that reminded him of McGonagall when she was angry. She spoke in a more mellow voice than her male colleague, and Harry felt himself calm in her presence. She sat with all three of them for about an hour, listening to them recount the highlights of the war, their part in it, and the discoveries they’d made since. They each handed over their scan results to her, and she “hmm’d” over them before passing them back. She then spent a half hour with each of them conversing in a silencing bubble to afford privacy. 

Harry felt wary of the one-on-one at first. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you want to tell me.” She nodded in a friendly manner. He didn’t know what to tell her that he hadn’t already, and just shrugged helplessly. “You seem lucky in your choice of friends.” She indicated Luna and Neville, who were sitting quietly to the side. 

“They’re the best.” He smiled over at the two. “I thought they’d fall for each other at some point, but now I’m not so sure.” 

“How do you feel about them?” 

“I love them.” 

“Unconditionally?”

“What? Like no matter what they do to me? No.” Harry looked at her. She knew about Hermi— Granger’s betrayal. “I won’t let anybody do that to me again. I won’t stand for another betrayal.” 

“That’s not what I mean by unconditionally. Do you have a standard they must reach before you love them? Do you love them regardless of their ‘worthiness?’” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I love them whether they’re smart or not, whether they’re powerful or not.” Harry looked relieved to understand. “Is that what you mean?” 

Talon nodded her head. “What about them. Do they love you unconditionally?” 

“I. Um. I— I. I think so? I don’t know.” Harry shook his head. “I mean, it’s okay if they don’t.” 

“If your friends don’t have to earn your love with their worthiness, why are you trying to earn theirs?” She looked piercingly at the young lord in front of her. She could tell he was dying inside from a lack of affection and self-worth. If she could just get him to realize his own importance, not because he destroyed a dark lord, or was famous as a babe, but for who he is as a person. That would be a great accomplishment, she thought. And nearly impossible. 

Harry couldn’t form an answer to her question. He gaped like a fish for a while, and umm’d and stuttered, and finally looked up helpless. 

Talon patted his hand. “I didn’t expect you to have a good answer to that question, but I would like you to think about it.” He nodded. He’d probably spend a while thinking about that whether she asked him to or not. 

The silencing bubble popped, and Talon agreed to continue meeting with all three of them, both as a group if they wished or individually. They set up regular meetings and said their farewells just as Griphook entered to announce the arrival of Severus Snape. 

They walked into the conference room, and Harry turned back to Griphook. “The wards?” He asked. 

“Are as you requested, Young Lord.” Griphook nodded at all four of them, and left the room. 

“What wards?” Snape demanded. 

“Privacy wards. We cannot be overheard, even by the goblins themselves, and none of us can share the information we learn here, unless all of us agree.” Harry moved to one of the seats and gestured for Snape to sit as well, if he wished. “It is good to see you alive, Sir. I have your memories to return, though I did have to submit a copy to the ministry before they would offer a posthumous pardon for any crimes connected to the war effort. You should be in the clear, if you decide to resurface.”

“You expect me to believe that you will not reveal my status, Potter?” He spat out, but then added in a slightly more personable tone, “Why aren’t you dead?”

Harry had known this wasn’t going to go smoothly. He hoped the conversation improved quickly. “I’ll explain it all, and we have proof. But to ease your mind, the wards work on me as well. Even if I wanted to tell anyone about seeing you, I couldn’t unless you agree.

“As to why I am not dead. That is a rather long story, and one I will share. Rest assured Tom Riddle is dead. The goblins have confirmed it.” Snape’s shoulder fell as he released the tension he’d been experiencing since seeing the boy in front of him. But first, I have a question for you, if you’re willing.” 

Snape nodded and Harry continued, “How do you feel regarding Albus Dumbledore?”

“You insufferable brat. You drag me here to bring that up? HE ASKED ME TO DO IT.” 

Harry, for possibly the first time since he was 11 years old, listened closely to what Snape was saying, “He asked you to do what, exactly?”

That shut Snape up. “He asked me to kill him, foolish boy.” 

Harry wouldn’t take that. Not now, not after everything. “Sir, I would like to have a civil conversation with you, but if you call me ‘boy’ it will become impossible. This is not arrogance or pride. I hate the name.”

Snape tilted his head as though he didn’t care one way or the other, but was watching the Potter brat closely all the same. Finally, he nodded in acknowledgment of the request, without saying anything. 

“Thank you. What do you know of horcruxes, Sir?” And so began the long, long story. Snape sat silently as his three former students recounted their years in Hogwarts. He learned that Potter had gone to seek help several times, and only when all trust in adults had been broken did he risk danger himself. He learned that at 12-years-old the boy in front of him had fought and killed a basilisk. He learned what had happened the night Sirius escaped (he was still not happy about that). He learned about the graveyard, the blood quill, the ministry. He learned everything Potter had learned in the horcrux lessons while a manipulative old man had been grooming a teenager to die. He learned about a cave, an ill-fated trip back to the ministry, a long camping trip, a capture, a plan, and a battle. He learned that Potter had gone into the forest that night to meet with the Dark Lord. 

“I died Sir.” Harry looked up from the story of his own death. “I walked into the clearing where he stood, my wand in my pocket, and let him kill me. The proof is on the scan the goblins ran.” He held out a piece of parchment, that the dour potions master snatched from his fingers. 

As Severus Snape looked at the healer’s report, he felt something inside himself break. Malnutrition?  _ Twenty-three  _ bone breaks? Sexual assault? How was this possible? This was Dumbledore’s golden boy. The spoiled brat who had been given everything his heart desired. This couldn’t be true. He retreated behind strong occlumency walls, and sorted through his memories till he could see, once again, a small 11-year old Potter sitting in his potions lesson. Yes, he had mouthed off, but as Severus reviewed the memory objectively, he took in the small frame, the sunken cheeks and brittle hair. He saw scars just showing out of the collar of his robes, and his insides burnt with shame. 

He glanced at the boy who was sitting in front of him stoically, as though waiting to once again be accused of lying. “Did you tell anyone?” 

“Every year.” Harry nodded. “He told me they must love me, and sent me back.” 

“Bastard,” Snape spat. He kept reading, PTSD, naturally, the boy had been in a war, he would have been surprised if it hadn’t been on the list. When he reached the magical health section, his stomach rebelled. As he was emptying his stomach into a bin Longbottom had handed him, he felt a hand gather his hair back. 

When he had finished, Lovegood handed him a towel, and he wiped his face. He cast a quick breath-freshening spell at himself and sat up. He looked across the table into sympathetic green eyes. “Potter,” his voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

“Please, sir, call me Harry. And frankly, I think we were both manipulated. I knew nothing of the magical world till my 11th birthday, when Hagrid arrived to take me for my school things. I love Hagrid, but he spent the entire day telling me to distrust Slytherin house. My first experiences with the Weasleys and Draco Malfoy didn’t help matters. Malfoy was as spoiled and bratty as my cousin, and Ron is also rather prejudiced against you and your house. I’m not sure how much, if any of it, was intentional from the Weasleys or Hagrid, but regardless, I had been well prepared to hate you. I believe you also received information about me, and my likeness to my father would have exacerbated the issue. Do you think we can move beyond the past and try to see each other for who we really are?” 

Snape stared in disbelief at the young man across from him. He held the page outlining his crimes against Potter in his own hand. His guilt written out for anyone to read. He had repeatedly violated the mind of an abused fifteen year old boy, and now that boy wanted to offer him a clean slate? “Potter, I—“

“Harry, Sir.” 

He took a deep breath. How could he have missed how much of his mother was in his personality. “Harry then, yes. I should like to start again with you.”

“I am glad to hear that, Sir.” Harry took a deep breath. “Do you know where Dumbledore is now?” 

Snape looked up sharply. What? “What are you on about? He’s in his tomb, where he has been for the last year.” 

Harry shook his head. He passed over more parchment, with what looked to be financial information on it. “Ah. Well, actually, no, sir. He’s not. Not according to the goblins anyway. He’s still alive, and” Harry’s teeth ground together a bit, “he’s still stealing my money.” 

“The headmaster is dead, Harry. You witnessed it. I cast the Avada curse at him per his request for a quick, painless death.” Snape looked at the boy. Had his mind gone?

Harry sighed. “Griphook?” He tapped a rune on the table, and the door opened. 

After a moment, the goblin entered and looked sharply at Snape. “Young Lord?” 

“Would you confirm Dumbledore’s status for Professor Snape?” 

Griphook nodded and looked directly at Snape. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is currently alive, and wanted by Gringotts Bank and the Goblin Nation for several crimes including theft, line theft, and the assaults on these three young people.”

“Thanks Griphook.” Harry bowed at the goblin. 

“Very well, Young Lord. The trial will be beginning in less than an hour.”

“Oh, thanks. Yes, I want to be there.” Harry’s grin was full of vindictive glee. 

“Trial?” Severus was watching the byplay between the goblin and Potter. He had never seen a goblin take such an easy manner with a wizard before. 

Harry nodded. “Dumbledore illegally sealed my parents’ wills— oh, you’re mentioned in them, we should get you a copy, don’t forget. Anyway, after he did that, he set himself up to be in charge of me, and with the help of a goblin named Stonetooth, who he appointed account manager over my family’s estate, has been funding his own little empire. It turns out that most everyone who is supposed to be dead, isn’t. Vance, Moody, Grindlewald, and Benji Fenwick are all alive, even though most people think they’re dead. I checked on the few others I knew of, but I’m not sure I’ve got the whole list. Might be more.” Harry shrugged. Frankly, he didn’t care. The goblins had stopped all payments, issued the magical summons, and were working on collecting the items taken from his vaults. Harry felt that he’d done his part, and just wanted to live a quiet life from now on. 

“He illegally… they’re alive?” Snape was having trouble accepting this. The calm, rational, matter-of-fact way Potter was laying it out didn’t help. 

“Yeah, weird, eh? A lot of the older generation we thought were dead are actually—” Harry froze. Wait. They hadn’t checked everyone. His parents. “GRIPHOOK!” The goblin glanced up at Harry’s face. 

Griphook had been following the conversation, and knew immediately what the problem was. “No Harry. They are gone. I assure you.” 

Harry’s heart rate slowly returned to normal. “Okay, thanks. It’s just, we didn’t check, you know?” 

“Your outburst is understandable. Now, I shall conduct you to the courtrooms, if you wish?” 

“Thanks. Yeah, okay.” Harry looked at Neville and Luna, who both nodded. He checked Snape, too. “Sir? Did you want to come, too?” 

Severus pulled himself together, and once again smoothed his face into an impassive mask as he stood. “Yes, Potter. I would be gratified to see this to its conclusion. Let us go. Lead the way, Master Goblin.”

As they walked through the corridors, Harry leaned slightly to speak to Severus. “Sir?” Severus slowed so they were following a pace or two behind the others. He nodded to indicate he was listening. “I was thinking maybe you should get a health scan too. It’s exhausting, but the feeling afterward is amazing. If you’ve lost memories or anything, it’s worth it. The physical effects are great too. I’ve never felt better in my life.” 

Harry said all this with a grin that broke Severus a little further. Lily’s son, his Lily, had never been without pain. For that fact alone, he would see Dumbledore in the ground in earnest this time. He nodded. “Thank you, Harry. I shall request it. I should also like to hear your parents’ wills, if it is agreeable.” 

“We’ll do that after the trial. Griphook says they’re quick.” 

“That they are.” Snape was interested in the upcoming trial for several reasons. 

They entered a perfectly ordinary goblin conference room, and seats grew up from the floor for them along one of the side walls. As they waited, Harry decided to learn more. “Sir, how did you manage to survive that bite?” 

Severus leaned closer, “Ah, after Arthur Weasley’s attack in your fifth year, the hospital asked me to develop the antivenin. And, when the Dark Lord became more and more obsessed with the wands, I realized that he may decide I would serve him better in death. I believe I became rather paranoid about keeping healing potions of all types near me, including the antivenin. After you found me in the shack, I managed to dose and heal myself; then I transfigured a bit of broken furniture into a reasonable facsimile of my dead body, disillusioned myself, and sought answers. By the time I’d managed all that, the Dark Lord had been defeated. I knew neither the Order nor the Ministry would accept my story, so I have spent the last two months, primarily in the muggle world, only occasionally slipping into the darker fringes of the magical world.” 

Harry nodded. It made sense. “Well, Sir. If you wanted to come back, you’re in the clear now.”

Severus wondered if he had ever truly seen this boy before now. “Thank you for that as well, Harry,” he murmured quietly, and then turned to watch the trial. 

Goblin justice was indeed swift. The evidence lay before the accused, who was required to prove himself innocent, rather than the other way around. Once it was pointed out that he knew Dumbledore had no right to control the Potter inheritance, but had done it anyway, the trial was basically over. As witnesses, they were also required to watch the punishment. Luna hid her head in Harry’s shoulder, and Harry grasped Severus’ forearm as the dishonest goblin was beheaded by an axe-wielding Griphook. Neville looked extremely pale, but managed to hold on to his lunch. 

As they left the room, Harry looked up at Severus, “Sir, where are you staying? Do you have somewhere safe?”

“Yes, Harry. I will be well.” Severus shook his head at his own blindness. “And you? Will you be staying somewhere safe?” 

Harry stopped. “Oh, I don’t actually know. Griphook? Are the properties in the folders safe and livable?” 

“Some of them, yes.” Griphook answered. “I will provide you a port key to any you wish, and many of them are being maintained by house elves.” 

Harry smiled. “That’s good then.” 

Harry picked at the zip on his jacket. “ Sir? Can I, maybe, write to you? Would you visit? I’d like to know more about my mum, and maybe my grandparents. You’re the only one who might tell me about them.” 

“I should be honored.” Severus realized that this would be a way to make amends, and would happily spend the time to make it right. 

The grin on Harry’s face looked to split his head open. “That’s great, Sir. Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. We’re finally finished with the bank!!! Well, for now, anyway. They’ll be stopping by to visit the goblins as we go along, but not for a while. 
> 
> Next title is from Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight”


	7. And I don’t know if you know who I am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets his relatives

Harry said farewell to Professor Snape, and Luna and Neville, who both felt it was more than time to return to their own places and see their families. Luna hadn’t seen her father in more than a week, but she didn’t think he would notice. He loved her, but it wasn’t a comfortable kind of love. He spent a lot of his time ignoring her. When he did pay attention, he tended to accidentally put her in dangerous situations. 

Neville had been away from his grandmother more than he wanted to be, considering her age. But he too was feeling an awkwardness with his family. Now that the goblins had healed him of the lingering abuse issues, he felt conflicted. He wanted to confront them about what they had done to him, but at the same time, he wanted to let go of the past hurts and focus on the present. He decided to just wait and see. 

Harry whispered the activation, and the bottle cap in his hand whirled him away to the West County. When he landed, he was standing in front of a large country house, situated in an open field. He knew he was near the sea, as he could smell the salt, but he couldn’t see it for a line of trees. 

The house was situated facing north, and was nowhere near as large as Malfoy Manor, which was the only other manor Harry could think of. It had two levels, with a peaked roof, which might indicate an attic, and a large porch wrapping around the front. The grounds actually looked more impressive than the house. Other than a greenhouse, he couldn’t see any buildings nearby; to the west, about a hundred yards off, there stood a wildwood, overgrown and tangled, but not dark. Behind the house, he could hear waves crashing. On the east side, a smallish greenhouse stood sentinel over a vegetable patch and beyond that there looked to be a small apple orchard. Rose bushes lined the path up to the house, and all in all it looked cozy. 

The garden gate had been whitewashed with a bright red door, and as he pushed it open and stepped through under the arch, a house elf popped up in front of him. 

He smiled at the small creature, and greeted it politely, “Hello. My name is Harry James Potter. I’m the son of James and Lily, and the grandson of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. Who are you?”

“Master Harry!” The little elf nearly knocked Harry off his feet. “Master Harry is here! And so kind. Dobby was telling poor Pobrey that Master Harry was good and kind, but oh! We never knew!”

Harry pried the elf from around his knees, where the poor thing was sobbing in what he hoped was joy, and knelt in front of him. “You knew Dobby?” Harry missed the elf so much! 

Ears flapped around Harry’s head as the elf nodded enthusiastically. “We knows Dobby! Yes, sir. But we hasn’t seen him lately. He was leaving to be visiting you. Did you see him?” 

“Yes,” Harry sighed heavily. He knew there was no way Dobby was also faking his death. He’d felt the elf’s heart stop and put him in the ground himself. “But, I’m so sorry, uh, Pobrey, but Dobby died. He was protecting me. He saved my life and my friends.” 

“And Master Harry was sad.” Pobrey seemed in awe of Harry’s emotions over his fellow elf. 

Harry frowned. “Of course I was! Dobby was my friend.” 

“Oh Master Harry, Pobrey meant no offense. But elves who die to protect their wizards, their  _ families _ , they has honor, Master Harry.” Pobrey smiled at Harry.

“I still miss him,” Harry sighed and stood up. “It’s nice to meet you, Pobrey. Will you show me around? I’d like to stay here, if it’s not inconvenient.” 

“Of course, Master Harry. We is so happy for you to stay. Pobrey will show you around.” And the elf led the way up to the front door of the house. 

Inside the “manor,” which was really just a rather large house, Harry met Maddey, Pobrey’s mate, and was exclaimed over again. “Welcome home, Master Harry! We is so happy to see you” she and Pobrey had a bit more reserve than Dobby did, but Harry had always known his friend was eccentric, even for a house elf. 

The house was large and open, with tall ceilings and lots of windows. In the front of the house, a large great room looked over the garden flowerboxes, and was filled with overstuffed, comfortable looking sofas in front of a fireplace Harry was sure could have fit the entire Weasley clan with elbow room. A low coffee table sat between the sofas, and a baby grand piano stood in a corner of the room. It looked like the sort of room just waiting for a family. 

Across the hall from the great room, double doors opened up to a long dining room. The dinner table could easily seat 14 people. Two sideboards broke up the deep blue walls, and between them hung a landscape painting of the sea coast during a storm. 

Deeper into the house, he found his grandfather’s study, a more feminine small parlor, and a library full of deep greens and mahogany wood. They also passed through a games room filled with softer, more comfortable looking chairs and pillows, bookcases filled with both wizarding and muggle board games, a large billiards table, and a dart board against one wall. He smiled imagining his father and Sirius lounging on the sofas, dreaming of their next adventures. In the back, and overlooking the sea cliffs stood a conservatory, with wrought iron furniture, comfortable cushions, and an abundance of orchids. He stood and simply breathed in the rich fragrance and felt the sun hit his face. 

“This is wonderful.” He smiled down at the elves, who bobbed their curtsies back, and then led the way toward the kitchen. They pointed out a door into what they called “elves’ home,” and Harry was gratified to note that the Potters had allowed house space to their elves. He grimaced as he remembered Kreature’s den beneath the boiler in Grimmauld Place. The kitchen was immaculate, and there was a small round table for four in one corner. That would be much more comfortable than the huge formal dining room, he thought. 

As they moved upstairs, Harry noted eight bedrooms—two main suites and six guest rooms. The stairs opened onto the center of a long hall, branching both left and right. The master suite was to the right at one end of the hall, and the heir suite on the left, at the other end. Down each long corridor, filling the hall between the stairs and each of the main suites, two bedrooms faced the sea cliffs behind the house, and one bedroom and a bathroom looked over the front gardens. Along the hall, he noticed several portraits watching him eagerly. He smiled at his ancestors and promised to return. 

In the master suite, he resized his suitcase, and Pobrey immediately took it to unpack his belongings. “Um, thanks!” He called as the elf disappeared into the closet with it. He stepped through French doors onto a semicircular balcony overlooking the wilderness. He breathed deeply and finally felt at home somewhere. Hogwarts had been home, but he couldn’t stand to be there now. All he saw, everywhere he looked, were scenes of battle, fiendfyre consuming the Room of Requirement, Giants attacking the walls, students buried under rubble, or bodies being carried into the Great Hall. Even before that, he realized. His feelings of being at home had been manipulated, crafted for him by an old man who wanted him to die. He shook his head to clear the memories, and ran his hand over the marble railing. This was his home. This was where he belonged. Dumbledore had tried to send him away, but he was here now. He would stay. 

It had taken him three days to get the house elves used to the fact that he preferred to take his meals at the kitchen table rather than the dining room, and that he also enjoyed their company enough to eat with them, rather than in solitary splendor as lord of the manor. Eventually, they got used to each other, though. 

Pobrey had taken Harry down into the basement, where he found a good sized wine cellar, filled with bottles he knew nothing about, and a very well equipped potions lab. True, it lacked some of the newer tools like the self-stirring cauldrons he’d seen in Diagon Alley, and some of the ingredients had obviously gone over, or had not been replaced, but everything was of good quality and kept clean. He wondered at that. Had his ancestors been good at potions? 

Pobrey squeaked in outrage at such a question. “How does Master Harry not knows?” He grabbed Harry by the hand and popped them into his grandfather’s study. Four portraits hung in here, and Pobrey led him up to one next to the bookshelf, and looked expectantly up at Harry. Unfortunately, Harry had no clue. 

“You has to tap the frame, Master.” The elves were learning, though incidents like this one, that their master had very little practical knowledge of life in the wizarding world. 

Harry tapped, and the portrait woke up. He realized he was looking into the eyes of his grandfather, and gasped. “G-grandfather? You’re my grandfather?” He felt the air behind him, trying to locate a chair. Pobrey shifted one closer, and then quietly let himself out of the room, so the two wizards could chat. 

Harry, meanwhile, was enjoying himself immensely. It only took a few minutes for his grandmother to come visiting in his grandfather’s frame. He’d been surprised to learn that his grandparents had died shortly after his parents married, so they’d never actually known him. Nevertheless, they were horrified to learn about most of his life, happy to hear that he’d been welcomed by the Weasleys and were looking forward to meeting Luna and Neville. 

Fleamont was a broad shouldered man whose wild Potter hair now had some grey streaks at the sides; he wore no beard and had brown eyes that wrinkled at the sides when he smiled. It turned out that the potions lab had not been his original idea, though he did a lot of his life’s work down there. Embarrassed at his own potions performance, Harry umm’d and uh’d his way through that part of the discussion. Fleamont, who had raised James and was no fool, smiled kindly all the same. “Well, if ever you wish for a refresher course in potions, you now know where to come. If Fred or I don’t know it, we’ll at least be able to set you on the right track.” 

“Fred?” Harry asked. 

“Linfred, the first of the Potter name, although back then it was mostly just a nickname. The portrait behind the desk, dear.” His grandmother, Euphemia, smiled at him and pointed to the left. 

“He knows potions too?” He looked positively ancient. 

“It’s a good thing he’s not awake to hear that. Knows potions, indeed. Child, Linfred was called “the Potterer” because he loved “pottering” around with herbs and potions. He invented Pepperup you know.” Fleamont shook his head. “Tap his frame, and the others, too. We’ll get you introduced. 

And so he did. He had some trouble conversing with Linfred, whose speech patterns were quite out of date and heavily influenced by Scots Gaelic, but who didn’t mind standing in with his grandfather as potions coach. Harry brought a frame down to the basement lab with him, so they could visit with him while he practiced. He thought about inviting Neville over. Brewing was much easier in a comfortable, well-lit lab, under the friendly guidance of his ancestors than it ever had been in the Hogwarts dungeons. 

In addition to Linfred, Fleamont, and Euphemia, he also spent time with his other relatives’ portraits. He listened to Henry and Ralston Potter debate the involvement of the magical world with the muggle one. Ralston had been a firm supporter of the Statue of Secrecy, but Henry felt that wizards should intervene in the muggle world, during times of great trouble—Henry had lived through the First World War, and thought protecting the muggles was the right thing to do. He even spent a memorable afternoon chatting with Iolanthe Peverell, who was the one to bring the Peverell Cloak of Invisibility to the Potter family. They traded stories of adventures with the cloak, and Iolanthe was stunned to discover that her descendant had united the three hallows. She was quite happy to strut around the manor discussing that accomplishment with all the other portraits. 

But mostly, he spent time with his grandparents. His grandmother, as it turned out, had loved baking, and had a special agreement with the house elves of her time, to share the kitchen duties. She told Harry about some of her recipes and inventions, and he explained about trying some of the muggle foods while he was in London, and how he wanted to experiment with new flavors. Euphemia led Harry to her old cookbook, which held most of her successful recipes written in her own hand, and they spent hours pouring over it. With Fleamont, he discussed the inheritances he’d gained, and had an avid tutor not only in potions, but estate management. He only wished he could have met them when they were alive. 

Toward the end of his first week at the manor, he decided to take a look in the heir suite. He had glanced at the room during his first tour, but didn’t go further than a few steps inside. It was clearly where his father stayed during his Hogwarts years, judging from the quidditch posters and Gryffindor banners. His dad had apparently supported Puddlemere United— there was a giant shield with the crossed bullrush logo on one side of the large bed— but the room was dominated by red and gold. Harry stepped in and felt like an interloper. It was strange being in the bedroom of someone he didn’t remember, but loved. He ran his hand over the desk and picked up a photo frame, featuring a picture of James and Sirius, laughing at something just out of the picture, judging by the waving elbows that occasionally wedged in from the left. 

“Who are you?” He nearly dropped the photo, and spun quickly, his wand out. 

“Who’s there?” He called, and heard snickers in response. 

“Who do you think?” Came the reply from the portrait of two boys, who looked to be just entering their teen years. They were elbowing each other over a job well done, and still chuckling over the surprise they’d given Harry. 

“Da—uh, James? That’s you? And Sirius?” Harry looked incredulously at the portrait he’d just found. 

“‘Course it’s me. It’s my room, innit?” Harry grimaced at how full of himself James actually sounded. “Who are you? Why are you here?” 

“Uh, I’m Harry. Um. Po-Potter. I’m Harry Potter. And, I l-live here.” Harry couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he was having a conversation with his teenaged father, and stuttering worse than Quirrel, to boot. 

“Harry, eh?” James looked assessingly at him, and then seemed to smirk a bit. “I like your eyes. Harry.” 

“Yeah.” Harry wasn’t sure he liked his father. Well, this version of him, anyway. He seemed like a bit of an asshole. 

Sirius had been quiet since he walked into the room. He could tell that this new Potter wasn’t too impressed with James. He wondered what kind of father James would be, if his son didn’t like him. Then it hit him. “James didn’t raise you, did he?” 

Harry looked at his godfather. He smiled. This was Sirius. It may have been a teenaged version of him, and only a portrait, but it was Sirius. “No, he didn’t. It wasn’t too easy. He and mum died when I was one.” And, just like in his fifth year, the story came spilling out of him. Because this was Sirius, and he trusted Sirius. He talked about the Dursleys, and then Hagrid. He talked about how much he loved Hogwarts, and the adventures they’d had. He mentioned trolls and stones and snakes and rats. He talked about the unfairness of a life destroyed by Azkaban and how sorry he was for racing to the ministry. He explained about horcruxes and hallows and how much he needed help, but no one came. He talked about seeing their shades under the trees of the forbidden forest, and dying and then not being dead, and how much he had learned from the goblins. It was cathartic. He spoke without censoring himself. He talked about Hermione and how he had trusted her. 

By the time he finally tapered off, both boys looked somber. “And, I’m sorry, you’re only, what, fourteen? And I’m telling you all this?”

“Fifteen, thanks” Sirius said, lifting his nose in the air. 

“Yes, we are fifteen, so we’ll thank you to not go underestimating us now.” James added.

Harry tilted his head and looked up at them. Then all three of them broke into laughter, and he felt so light and so good to have them back, even just as portraits.

Maddey popped into the room to tell him dinner was ready, and she curtseyed to the boys in the portrait as well. “Master James! You is awake. Your parents is going to be very happy to talk with you and Mister Sirius. You go now. They is waiting.” If a portrait could be shoo’d out, the elf managed it, and then led Harry down to the kitchen for a warm chicken and vegetable pie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things start moving. A bit, anyway. You may have guessed that this is going to be a slow going sort of story. It will go, but there’s some things that need set up first, and I like details. Thanks for sticking with it this far. 
> 
> Next chapter title is stolen from Men at Work, “Down Under.”


	8. I come from the land down under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double-O Weasley sends a letter, requesting a Weasley family meeting to discuss betrayal and sabotage. We learn that the Headmaster is far creepier than we thought (although we have not yet plumbed the true depths of his creepiness, we’re definitely getting closer).

Harry had been living with his two house elves and his family’s portraits for two weeks when his breakfast was interrupted by a feathery grey tennis ball, banging into the kitchen window. Maddey opened the window to let the poor thing in, and Harry felt nerves coalesce in his stomach. He still wasn’t sure what to do about Ron. He hadn’t found any evidence that the Weasleys knew of the headmaster’s plans, or that they had taken his money. In fact, considering how they struggled financially, it made more sense that they weren’t getting paid from his accounts. However, Ron’s loyalty had never been really solid. Harry was still getting over his abandonment during the horcrux hunt. He wondered if he really wanted to read this letter. 

With no other choice, he took Pig into his hand, and untied the letter. He passed over his toast edges and a piece of bacon, and the tiny owl squeaked its thanks. Harry opened the letter, feeling his breakfast squirm. 

_ Dear Harry, _

_ Wow! Australia was great. We went snorkeling and saw a giant rock in the middle of the desert. We found Hermione’s parents, would you believe they started a new dentist's office here. I guess they must love looking at teeth. Seems a bit dull to me, but hey, we can’t all battle the forces of darkness and save the world, eh? The magical community there was excited to hear about the end of Voldy, you’re famous there too, mate, sorry about that. I know you hate— _

_ Okay, she’s not watching any more. Harry, we have a huge problem. I’m getting all the family together at the Burrow, and you have to come. Some stuff Hermione said is— well, it’s not good. Look, just come to the Burrow. I’ll explain it all. Mum and Dad and everyone will be there. Everyone but Hermione, anyway, and don’t tell her if she asks you. I’ve told her she needs to reconnect with her parents after so long. Reckon I might be up to a tablespoon now, eh? We’re going to meet tomorrow for lunch. Please come.  _

_ Ron _

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He still had Ron. He wondered what part of the betrayal Ron had discovered and whether he was going to be taking any more body blows at this meeting. He sighed and folded the letter up. He thanked Pobrey for the meal and went to the study and got a fresh piece of parchment to write his reply. He’d have to figure out how to word it just in case. 

_ Ron,  _

_ Hey mate! I’m glad you both had a good experience. It’s good that the Grangers were able to set themselves up in a familiar job. I hope they didn’t mind the move. I think it’s a good idea you had for Hermione to spend time with them. They must have been upset that she took their memories. I’d hate for something like that to happen to me.  _

_ We should get together soon and catch up. I’d love to hear all you have to say about Australia. I might even have a story or two for you. It’s too bad that tomorrow’s busy for Hermione, but I’m sure I’ll see you soon.  _

_ Take care of yourself, mate.  _

_ Harry _

There, he thought. Just innocent enough in case Granger was reading over his shoulder, confirmed that he’d be at the burrow, and gave him a warning about her fondness for obliviation, if he could read between the lines. It was Ron, so it could go either way. 

He re-entered the kitchen to find Pig. “Ready for my reply?” He’d discovered over the years that it was best to explain what he was up to with this owl. Otherwise the birdbrain wouldn’t slow down enough to carry any post at all. He sent it on its way, and went upstairs to ask James and Sirius’ advice about the situation. 

He’d been spending more and more time in front of this portrait, siting on the floor, leaning up against the red and gold covered bed. He’d loved hearing about the friendship between three of the Marauders. James and Sirius left Peter out of their stories after having heard about his betrayal, and Harry hated hearing the stories of their bullying, especially of Snape, so their stories focused instead on sneaking around, learning muggle poker in the dormitory, quidditch, rock and roll, and escaping into the forbidden forest for a bit of freedom. They had been painted before they managed the animagus transformation, but they had started work on the map, and loved hearing about Harry’s adventures with the cloak. 

He’d been spending time with Talon as well, flooing into the bank every other day and slowly working through the trauma of the war, his school years, the Dursleys. He’d spent the time she recommended thinking about whether he needed to earn friendship. He still felt that actions were important to demonstrate loyalty and love, but that maybe wasn’t the same thing. He was working on it. Talon had told him that it would take time, whatever happened. He finally had the time, so he felt good about the process. 

The day after the letter from Ron, Harry got himself ready. He decided to wear his new muggle clothes. They were more comfortable than robes, and he wanted to be comfortable for the discussion that was coming. James, Sirius, Iolanthe, Euphemia, and Fleamont all joined him in a portrait in the kitchen, as he and the elves had their breakfast. He was feeling nervous, but hopeful. When it was time, he headed out the front gate passed the wards and apparated to the lane in front of the Burrow.

He smiled as he walked up the path, remembering the first time he’d seen it. It was still one of the best places in the world, but Potter Manor was now his favorite home. He felt at peace in his own place, in a way that he had never felt, even with as welcome as the Weasleys had always made him feel. 

He tapped on the lower half of the stable door into the kitchen, the top had been left open, a sure sign that the security he’d once witnessed in the Burrow had been eased. Mrs. Weasley bustled up to greet him, and he grinned. “Hi Mum Weasley. Everybody okay?” 

“Oh Harry. It’s good to see you. How are you keeping? You haven’t been around at all.” She kissed his cheek. “Your family misses you, young man!”

“Actually, I’ve been getting to know my family.” He was herded over to the long kitchen table. “Did you know that the Potters had a home? Two house elves have been living there since my grandparents passed, but it’s full of portraits! I’ve been chatting with a whole load of Potters. The elves are great too.” Harry snagged a biscuit off a plate Mrs. Weasley set down, and grinned up at her. 

Mrs. Weasley had a strained smile on her face. “That. That’s lovely dear. I’m glad you’re happy.” Mr. Weasley floo’d in from work, and Mrs. Weasley turned to greet him. 

“Harry!” Two identical redheads sat down on either side of him. One was missing an ear, and the other still needed a walking stick after some falling rubble had crushed his right leg, but both were grinning at him. “Just who we wanted to see! Would you like to try one of our new caramels?” Fred held up a bowl full of individually wrapped candies. 

“Oi, you two. Lay off him.” Ron and Percy came into the living room, full of smiles. Ron came up and gave him a back slapping hug. “Glad you made it, mate. That letter of yours was genius. And yes, she did read it. Just harrumphed and handed it back.” 

“You okay, Ron?” Harry knew that Hermione’s false loyalty must be killing his friend. He’d been in love with her since fourth year, not that he would have admitted it then. 

Ron straightened, “I’ll be fine.” In that moment, Ginny, Bill and Charlie came in from the garden carrying brooms and looking flushed. When Ginny saw Harry sitting at the table, she turned pale and leaned into Bill’s side. He put an arm around her and guided her to sit at the table, leaning down to murmur something into her ear. 

Once all the Weasleys were seated, Ron stood up and faced them all. “I called this meeting, so I’ll, uh, just start, hm? I needed you all here to understand something that Hermione told me when we were in Australia. We’ve all been tricked. The Order was a kind of front that Dumbledore was using to seem good. It wasn’t all about fighting You-Know-Who. And Hermione, she was helping him.” Ron’s voice broke off a bit, and Harry stood next to his friend. 

“Ron, mate, sit down, okay? I’ve got this.” Harry put an arm around his best friend's shoulders and eased them both back into seats. “Maybe it will help if I tell you all what I discovered at Gringotts.” And Harry outlined his visit to the goblins, how Luna had insisted on his taking an inheritance test, and what he learned about muggle borns. He explained that learning all that family history, and having so many account books to go through, he went to the muggle world for some peace, and Luna and Neville helped him get through it all. He told them about the stealing, and how some of the Order was still alive. He told them about the health scan and his cleansing. 

Arthur spoke up, “Harry, Son, thank you. Having that health scan made a big difference for all of us as well. Only Ron hasn’t had his yet, but we were all manipulated in some way or other.”

Percy had an uncharacteristically fierce look on his face, “He changed enough of my memories to drive me away from my family. He needed to have Mum and Dad angry and off balance, and used me to drive a wedge through the family.” He looked around. “I’ve already said it, but I’m sorry. I should have—“ 

“Percy,” Arthur began, “it was not your fault. You came back to us even before we visited Gringotts. It shows the strength of your love for your family. We’re proud of you son.” 

Harry looked over at Ron. “So yeah, I know she’s been stealing, and I know Dumbledore and his ‘old guard’ are still alive, but I can’t figure out why. Did Granger let you know what’s up?” 

“Yeah. She still thinks I’m that idiot I was in school and she has to prove how smart she is by giving me all the answers. She told me a lot. Dumbledore has her convinced that you’re actually a dark wizard because you were prophesied to kill. She’s all about right and wrong, mate, and she’ll never see anything else.” 

Harry snorted, “Until she’s setting teachers on fire, smuggling dragons, brewing illegal polyjuice potion, misusing a time turner, or stealing my money.”

“Well, yeah,” Ron shrugged. “Her ideas about what’s ‘right’ will always be whatever she wants them to be, which is usually whatever Dumbledore says.” 

Bill leaned forward, “You two are getting off track, and we have no idea what you’re talking about. What we really need to know is what they’re planning now.” 

Ron sat up, “She told me. They want the hallows.”

The Weasleys looked confused, but Harry went pale. “Why would Dumbledore give them to me if he wanted them for himself, though?” 

“Think Harry.” Ron admonished him. “It’s like in chess. You give a little to get a lot. Dumbledore was giving Hermione information and hints all during last year. Including our little, uh, artifact hunt.” He looked meaningfully at Harry. “She’s the one who tried to keep you away from the hallows, at least not until the end, yeah? You were supposed to die in that forest. They had that part all planned out. And if you died? What would happen then? Dumbledore would come swooping in to kill you-know-who. He’d be the hero again.” 

“And his death.” Harry nodded. “He planned that with Snape. Because of that, he would have still had the elder wand. It never would have been Snape’s, but Voldemort” the Weasleys shuddered “would have still thought it belonged to Snape. He still would’ve gone after him.” 

“Hermione said if you were dead all your stuff would be given to the headmaster since you didn’t have a will. They planned to get the cloak and the stone that way, I guess.” 

“Shows what they know. I’ve had a will since summer before third year. I made it when I was staying at the Leaky. I didn’t realize what all I had, so I just put down that Mr. Weasley got everything.” 

Arthur looked shocked. “Harry, I don’t want—“

“I know, Sir.” Harry interrupted. “Believe me, I know. But I trust you to do what’s right with the money and the stuff. You’ll know who should get what and treat the important stuff with respect. Griphook had me make another one when I was there, especially because of Teddy, but it’s still mostly the same.” 

Arthur cleared his throat, “Well, to be certain, we will all take care of Teddy.” 

“See? I couldn’t have picked better.” Harry beamed at Mr. Weasley. 

Mrs. Weasley spoke up, “But Harry, dear, what are these things he wants from you?” 

Harry and Ron shared a look. Ron shrugged. Harry nodded. “Mum,” he began, “Well, you all know the story of the Three Brothers?” 

Nods all around the table. “They’re real. The resurrection stone, the elder wand, and Death’s own invisibility cloak. I’m not sure if they really belonged to Death or not, but the things— they’re real. People call them ‘The Deathly Hallows’ and the story is that uniting them will make a person Master of Death.” Harry swallowed. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to explain this next bit. “I wasn’t actually sure if that bit was true or not, but it seems so. On my inheritance test. At the bank. It was listed— I’m Lord Mors by ‘magical accomplishment.’ No idea what it means in the long run. Hopefully not much. I don’t really want to be Master of anything, much less death.”

“Anything weird, barmy, or bizarre— always happens to you, mate.” Harry smiled at Ron. He always made Harry feel normal again. 

“Lucky me.” Harry deadpanned. “Anyway,” he turned back to the shell shocked Weasleys, “that’s what he’s after. He’s wanted to control the hallows and be master of death since he was a teenager, plotting with Grindlewald.”

Ron was frowning. “He must have picked up the stone from the forest. You told his portrait that you dropped it in there. I’ll bet that portrait is a blind, and he can communicate with it, or spy with it somehow.”

“Right, well, I also basically gave him back the wand and told him I was keeping the cloak.” Harry looked glum. 

“But Harry, remember? The wand chooses the wizard. I didn’t understand it at the time, but when you fought You-Know-Who, you were using Draco’s wand, but it was also the unbeatable wand, that’s why it never worked for him. By giving Dumbledore the wand back, you ruined it for him— he’d have to disarm you to win its allegiance.” 

“Right, well, he was planning on offing me anyway, now he can do that and get the wand. Tidy, eh?” Harry sighed. He felt like he’d never catch a break. 

Mr. Weasley was looking very fierce. “Harry, we will never allow that to happen.” The rest of the Weasleys around the table nodded their agreement. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” 

“Yes. I’ve been staying in my family’s manor. You’re all invited for a visit. The elves would love me to have company, and my dining table seats 14! I usually eat in the kitchen with the elves though, much more friendly in there.” 

“It sounds lovely, Harry. We’d be delighted to visit.” Mrs. Weasley’s voice had gone soft with emotion, “But are you sure you’re okay in a big house like that alone?” 

“Mum, I’ve told you, I’m not alone! I’ve got the elves and the portraits, and I visit at the bank just about everyday. I’m” Harry broke off, “Well, I’m seeing a mind healer.” He grimaced and looked up at all of them. 

Bill nodded. “That’s very smart, Harry. Fleur and I have been offered the same through our jobs. It’s wise to get yourself healthy.”

“Of course, it is.” Mr. Weasley agreed, “no shame in asking for help when you need it. That healing was a godsend, Harry.” 

“S’nothing, sir. Really.” Harry blushed. “I just, well, Nev and Luna were with me. And we all had some bad things on our scans. It just seemed like if we did, you might as well. I wanted you to be okay.” 

“Bad things, Harry?” Charlie had been stifling his rage through most of the conversation, with the result that he was now quite red around the ears and the back of his neck. “What was on your scan?” 

“Well, there was stuff from the war, and all the mental things at Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s magical attacks, and um, well, the Dursleys weren’t really a picnic,” he cut off. He really didn’t want to go into that.

“Oh Harry” the dam that had been keeping Mrs. Weasley’s emotions in check suddenly burst. He’d been wondering why she seemed a bit stiff with him. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry.” Wait, what? “When the twins and Ronnie told us about the bars and the starving, we were so determined to get you away from them. We never would have let you return somewhere you weren’t safe. But then, we just didn’t.” She sniffled into a handkerchief. 

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley, who nodded solemnly. “Mum, don’t. Mum,” he got up and hugged her. “It’s okay. It wasn’t you. Your scan showed obliviation didn’t it? False memories? Mine did, too. He changed everything to suit him. It wasn’t your fault.” Harry looked helplessly up at the rest of the Weasleys. 

“What are we going to do?” Bill looked to his father for a plan. Harry hugged Mrs. Weasley one more time before returning to his seat. 

Mr. Weasley sounded so firm Harry nearly didn’t realize it was him speaking. He’d never heard him that determined before, “We’re going to protect Harry. We’re going to stop Dumbledore. We’re going to do the right thing.” 

“Percy, do you think you could start researching his background? We know about what Rita wrote, but people don’t believe her. We need to separate fact from fiction, and we need evidence. You’re the best at looking stuff up.” Ron started planning their attack. 

Harry added, “The goblins have loads of evidence, but I don’t know if it’s enough, considering how much power Dumbledore has. People think he’s the rebirth of Merlin.”

“I can help with the goblins.” Bill spoke up. “I know a few who want Dumbledore taken down.”

“Good. Talk to Griphook. He’s my account manager, and he’ll help.” Bill nodded at Harry. 

“Harry,” Ginny spoke up for the first time. “I need to tell you about something on my scan.” 

Harry looked into her eyes. He saw nerves, but he also saw the steel behind them. Whatever was on her scan wasn’t any good. He thought about his own. Could it be? 

“Me too.” He replied, and looking steadily into her eyes, he continued. “I was given an increasing dose of amortentia from my fourth year on. Is that similar to yours?” 

“Since I was five years old.” Came the small voice. 

Harry’s temper blew. “Five?” He stood up from the table and walked outside. He stood in the yard and started blasting rocks apart. Talon had recommended it as a kind of therapy when his emotions got to be too much. It had the added benefit of improving his aim. After a while, he became aware of the twins on either side of him. He lowered his wand, breathing heavily. 

“What. Didn’t. He. Do. To. Us?” He turned to look at them. They were unusually serious. “Why?” Harry asked. “What could he possibly want with us? What difference could it ever make? He was planning on killing me anyway.” 

“Ron’s told us he wanted Ginny pregnant first.” 

“And he’s a creepy, disgusting, old man.”

“Lucky you prefer men, isn’t it?” 

“What?” Harry choked. 

“Come off it, Harry. We’ve known for ages.” 

“Nobody cares. We love you. Well, we don’t  _ love _ you, but you know.” 

“Figure you’re not interested in redheads” 

Harry held his hands up. “Wait. Slow down. How did you know? I only figured it out myself a couple weeks ago.”

“Saw you lookin’ at Oliver during quidditch.”

“Obsessing over Malfoy.”

“More than friendly with Cedric.”

“Didn’t take a genius.” 

“Which we happen to be”

Oh. Well, then. “Yeah, you’re right.” Harry heartbeat slowly began to return to normal. “Really, nobody minds? Ron?” 

“Right as rain, mate.” Came his best friend’s voice. 

He whirled around. “Ron?” 

“No worries. Figured it out before these two _geniuses_ , actually” he rolled his eyes. “Remember Cho? You reacted all wrong when she kissed you, mate. Unfortunately, Hermione figured it out then, too. I think that’s when they probably started increasing the dosage, or intensifying the potion or something.” 

“God. There was nothing they didn’t put their noses in, was there?” Harry shook his head and went back into the kitchen. He stopped in front of Ginny. “Are you okay now?” She nodded, sniffling. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I can’t figure why, but he’ll pay for it.” 

Ginny’s eyes glinted with anger. “He will.” Her words echoed like a vow into the silent room, and all of her family agreed with the sentiment. Albus Dumbledore would come to regret meddling with the Weasleys. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with the story this long. The time travel is coming up in a few chapters. Harry needed to know that the Weasleys were on his side. After hearing about Hermione, and Ron’s various desertions, it was important for him to know that the Weasleys, including Ron, were loyal. Ron also had insight into Dumbledore’s motives thanks to Hermione. The creepy-ass matchmaking Dumbledore is set on will also be important later. 
> 
> Okay, so the next chapter title is from Tears for Fears.


	9. Everybody wants to rule the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations with Snape and Percy reveal a bit more of Dumbledore’s long term goals and methods— neither of which are particularly good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if Linfred’s speech patterns aren’t quite right— I found a website full of supposedly famous phrases and such, and kind of enjoyed myself.

Harry’s dinner party with the Weasleys had the house elves glowing in happiness and pride. Their master had good, kind friends. Harry had included Neville and Luna, and with the nine redheads, the table was nearly full. Laughter and chatter filled the house. 

Harry had taken great joy in introducing Molly and Arthur Weasley to his grandparents, who had stepped into a frame in the great room, while everyone relaxed after dinner. Once they were happily ensconced with coffee and biscuits, chatting about developments in the ministry, Harry caught the twins’ eye and jerked his head to the door. 

“I’ve got someone, well, two someones for you to meet.” He smirked at them. “You two are gonna love this.” 

Ron popped up next to him, “What’s up Harry?”

“C’mon, you’ll want to meet them too.” Harry grinned at his friend and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his father’s bedroom, and urged the boys inside. As he made the introductions between the Demon Twins of Gryffindor Tower and one half of the Marauders, he wondered vaguely if this really was a good idea. Fred and George looked like Christmas and their birthdays had all come early, and immediately sat down in front of the portrait for a long chat. 

Harry caught Sirius’ eye, and they shared a grin. As the conversation devolved into a competition of sorts between who had pulled the best pranks, Harry rolled his eyes. He stood up and smirked. “The twins haven’t hurt or humiliated anybody. They win, in my opinion.” He winked at his business partners and then slipped from the room. 

From just outside the bedroom door, he heard his father asking what that meant, and the twins reply, “Oh, Harry won’t stand” 

“for bullying. If we go” 

“too far, he lets us” 

“know. It’s good” 

“to have his input.”

“Keeps everyone laughing,”

They finished together: “which is the goal after all.” 

Harry smiled and returned downstairs to his other guests. Neville was chatting with Charlie and Bill about foreign customs and shopping districts. Luna and Ginny were giggling about something, and it was good to see both of them with smiles on. 

He sat next to Percy and asked quietly, “Any luck on the research project?”

“Quite a bit, actually. It’s quite remarkable, who will talk with you if you ask the right questions.” 

“That’s good. When you’re ready with it, you’ll let me know?” 

“Of course, Harry. Tomorrow afternoon?” Harry nodded, and Percy smiled sheepishly. “And you know, I really am sorry about—“

Harry quickly cut him off. “You don’t apologize for something that you didn’t do, Perce. It wasn’t your fault. We were all tricked and manipulated. You can be sorry if you screw up on your own, but don’t take on guilt that belongs to someone else.”

“That goes for you, too, you know?” Arthur had been listening, and leaned in to make sure that Harry followed his own advice. “I know you feel guilty about what’s happened to all of us, especially Ginny.” Arthur’s voice dropped even lower. “But that’s not your guilt either. True, we may not have been meddled with as extensively had we not been part of your life, but we will never regret that. And you didn’t do the meddling.”

Harry leaned into Arthur. This was a good man. He smiled at all the people filling his house up. “I want you all to come over lots more.” 

“And so we shall,” Mrs. Weasley smiled over at him. “But it’s getting late, now. I think we should head home.” She gathered up her family and Harry led all his guests to the floo just off the entrance hall. 

“Have a good visit?” He grinned at the twins, as they surrounded him in a two-way hug. 

“Thanks Harry!” Their eyes were full of mischief as they snagged the floo powder from the bag on the mantle. 

The next day, he had yet another visitor coming to the house, and was feeling a bit nervous. He met Severus Snape in front of the war memorial in Godric’s Hollow. 

“Hello Sir. Sorry about the meeting point, but it’s walkable from here, if you don’t mind about 40 minutes of walking, and I wasn’t sure how else to find you.” 

Severus was wearing his favorite color, but in a nod to the muggles wandering around, had chosen black jeans and a pullover sweater. It was sunny, but there was a breeze blowing up from the coast. “It is no trouble, Harry. And do, please call me Severus. I believe you and I should be beyond formalities at this point.” 

“I’ll try, Sir.” Harry smiled and nodded the way out of town. 

The two men walked down country lanes and across fields; Severus occasionally stopping to collect some herb or insect that would, Harry supposed, be useful in a potion. “Um, Si-Severus, I should warn you, I think. We’re heading to Potter Manor, and you’re welcome there, of course, but there’s a portrait of my father and godfather from when they were teenagers. I’ve told them you’re coming, and that they have to behave, but well, you knew them, sir.” Harry shrugged. He was uncertain how the Marauders would react, and didn’t want Severus to be surprised by his teenaged nemeses. 

“I believe I can handle two teenaged portraits,” Severus grimaced. “But thank you for the warning, all the same.” 

Harry grinned, and opened the garden gate. “Welcome to my home.” They wandered up the path and Pobrey opened the front door for them. “This is Pobrey. Pobrey, this is Potions Master Severus Snape, he’s visiting.” 

Pobrey gave a deep bow. “Will you introduce him? Master Linfred will be very happy.” 

Harry nodded, and Snape picked up on the name, “Linfred? Potions Master Linfred?”

“Yep. He was the first Potter. Well, I suppose he actually had another name. I’ve never asked. But everybody called him Linfred the Potterer, and it stuck.” Harry shrugged as he led the way into the study. “Fred?” He called, “Are you up for a potions discussion with someone who knows what he’s talking about?” Severus snorted, but Harry couldn’t tell if it was in offense or amusement. Hoping for the latter, he tapped on Linfred’s frame. 

The first Potter slid into the frame, and smiled at his descendant. “Ach, young Harry. And wha’s this skinny malinky longlegs?” 

“Linfred, I want you to meet Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in Britain.” Harry grinned at his former professor. “This, is Linfred the Potterer.” He added in an undertone, “good luck understanding him, Sir. I only get about one word in ten.” 

The next hour passed in thick old Scots and potions ingredients. Once Fleamont joined the discussion, Harry understood a little more, but was content to allow the conversation to flow around him, rather than join in himself. He knew just enough to know that he was in over his head when the three potioneers started debating the value of different snake venoms, and sunk into his own thoughts. 

Pobrey popped in to announce lunch, and Harry interrupted his grandfather. “Severus, would you like to take lunch in here? I’ve been eating with the elves in the kitchen, and the only other option is a formal 14-person dining room.” 

Severus smirked. “This is perfectly acceptable.” Pobrey nodded and disappeared. The low coffee table was soon filled with sandwiches, trays of fruit and vegetables, a bowl of chicken salad, and some cakes. 

“Help yourself!” Harry passed his former professor a plate. As they ate, Harry asked his questions. 

Severus wiped his mouth before responding, “No. I don’t think Dumbledore would be so bold as to make a public move against you. You are still the man who defeated the Dark Lord.” He took a sip of coffee. “He will work in subtle ways first. If he can find you, he will attack here and try to kill you. Few people have memories of this place, and no one would think you’d be here. Once you are dead, he can come forward and promote his own version of what happened.” 

“What could he say, though? People won’t believe him after he played dead for a year, would they?” Harry was incredulous. He was absolutely disgusted by his headmaster’s actions during the war. They were not the choices of an honorable or brave man. 

Severus could see his thoughts on his face, “You are laboring under the assumption that your headmaster was a Gryffindor.” 

“Wasn’t he? He favored them enough.” 

“Ah, but that’s because favoring Gryffindors is a good way to keep them on your side. My apologies, but your former house was not known for its clear thinking, logic, or the ability to question authorities. As it happens, the headmaster is the most Slytherin Ravenclaw I’ve ever encountered— In fact, of all the non-Slytherins I’ve known, he’s the sneakiest, well, he was till a certain bespectacled seeker made his debut in the magical world.” He shot a pointed look at Harry, who blushed. 

“Well, the Hat did give me a choice, but like I told you before, I’d met Hagrid, Ron Weasley, and Draco, who all helped me make the decision.” Harry harrumphed. “So, his first move will be here?”

“It’s likely. I suspect he will also work to darken your reputation with hints of an evil connection between you and the Dark Lord. Your withdrawal from the magical world will only help this. If you are not around to tell your story, his will be the only version available, and the magical world is conditioned at this point to accepting and believing his stories.”

“Then, I have to go out in public?” Harry exclaimed with a slight whine. “No. Those vultures are just waiting to pick me apart. I can’t. You haven’t seen them.” 

Severus chuckled. “Control it, don’t let it control you. This is where those Slytherin tendencies will help you. Do some reading and find a reporter you like, who writes fairly and factually, with a reasonable following. Invite them here, and give a private interview. If you reveal Dumbledore’s cowardice before he comes forward,” his voice trailed away, leaving Harry to come up with the repercussions, pleased when a vicious smirk stretched the young man’s face. 

“Good plan, Sir!” Harry’s mind was racing. He could reveal the story of a teenager sent on a wild goose chase. He wouldn’t necessarily have to reveal that they were horcruxes, he did agree with Dumbledore that the information wouldn’t do any one good if it was widely available, but he could still talk about freezing and starving in the woods, while Dumbledore was living comfortably thanks to Harry’s fortune. Add in the fact that Harry never knew about the fortune, thanks to Dumbledore’s manipulations, and he could really have the public hating the old man. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the wards pinging at him. Someone was in the floo. “Excuse me,” he went to the entry hall, which had the only floo connected to the network, and found Percy Weasley’s head in the fireplace. “Hi Perce.” 

“Harry.” Percy sounded particularly solemn. “I’ve learned some things you should know.” 

“Professor Snape’s here. We’re strategizing now. Can he hear your news, too?” Harry asked.

“Probably for the best. He’ll be good at working through the implications.” 

“Best come on through, then.” Harry stood and waited at the floo for Percy’s spinning form to appear, and then led the way back to the study. “Help yourself if you’re hungry. The elves made enough for all England, it seems.” 

“Thanks,” Percy made up a plate of sandwiches and fruit as Harry poured him a cup of tea. “Hello Professor. It’s good to see you.” 

Severus nodded, amazed at the greeting. Harry had truly spread the news of his unwilling participation in Dumbledore’s ‘death.’ It was unusual for people to be pleased to see him. 

Once Percy had settled with a plate and cup, and had taken a few bites of sandwich, Harry pounced, “So, what’s the news, Perce? What have you learned?”

“It’s not good.” Percy leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’m not really sure where to begin, but I guess it started with Grindelwald. Skeeter got it right. They were lovers, but the duel that resulted in Ariana’s death was not the end of their relationship. When we were cleaning up Hogwarts, I found a room just below his office. It’s not visible from the staircase behind the gargoyle, but there’s a secret set of stairs behind one of the headmaster’s portraits. Anyway, I found a lot that’s not good in that room. The connection between the two of them went much further than Skeeter ever dreamed.” He stopped at took a sip of his tea. 

“They didn’t break it off after Ariana died?” Harry was horrified. Grindlewald’s actions after that were horrific, how could the headmaster condone murder?

“No, they plotted together, and—“ he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in tufts, “—and they started running experiments to verify their ideas.” 

“Experiments?” Harry’s voice sounded weak. 

“Yes, I’m not sure you remember, Binns talks about it, but…” 

Harry grinned, “Yeah, probably don’t remember it, in that case.” 

“Muggle-borns started appearing in growing numbers during the turn of the century, about when Dumbledore started at Hogwarts. He and Grindelwald wanted to find out where they came from. So, they started their experiments.” 

“They experimented on the muggleborn?” Severus sounded disgusted.

“Yes, although they started with the muggles.” Percy nodded. “Once he became a teacher, he had more open access to magical people, in particular the muggle born whom no one would notice missing. He started the experiments at school, but worried about being caught, so he and Grindelwald decided to kidnap them. The authorities never noticed because they were muggle born. Everyone assumed that they returned to the muggle world. On the muggle side, their parents were told that they needed to spend more time in the magical world. Since the magical world didn’t keep track of the muggle parents, and thought of the muggle born as second class, nobody realized what was happening.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Harry sounded faint. “They stole children?” 

Percy nodded. Severus spoke up, “You found more evidence of this during the muggles’ Second World War, didn’t you?”

“He was working with Hitler?” Harry exclaimed. 

Percy grimaced, “Yes. I hadn’t realized how bad it was, but I read a few books about World War II. As a side note, Magicals really do need a better understanding of the muggle world. We have no idea how truly destructive they can be.” 

“Indeed.” Severus nodded. “So, Dumbledore and Grindelwald were handing magical children over to Hitler, feeding his paranoia and obsession with the occult.” 

“Yes.” Percy nodded. “I also found evidence of Dumbledore’s interest in eugenics.” 

“What’s that?” Harry asked. He didn’t like the sound of it.

Severus grimaced, “It is the study of genetics, with the goal of eliminating distasteful traits. At first, it sounds like a good idea, but it holds up an ideal image of a human being, and anything which differs from the ideal image, is eliminated. You know, I’m assuming, of the Nazis preference for blond haired, blue eyed strength.” Harry nodded, and Severus continued, “thus, you and I and Percy would all be exterminated as none of us fit that image. Eugenics as a policy leads to holocaust and ethnic or genetic ‘cleansing.’ It is beyond horrific that Dumbledore would promote these ideas. With his magic, he could have done ten times worse than Hitler’s wildest dreams.” 

“He wanted to breed magically strong children, and yes, I think that has something to do with you and Ginny. He kept records of the various ancestry lines.” Percy added. “I found notes on the different descendants. Which leads to Tom Riddle.” 

“He knew!” Harry’s intuition had kicked in. “He knew that Riddle was the descendant of Slytherin, and kept that from him all those years, while he was struggling to find his parents.” 

“It’s worse than that, Harry.” Percy shook his head, “He knew about him when he was in the orphanage, and left him there. He’d kept track of the Gaunt lines.” 

“He could have stopped it.” Severus sat, stunned. “He could have stopped Riddle from becoming the Dark Lord.” His right hand was massaging his left forearm. 

“He could have,” Percy agreed, “but he actually needed a strong, dark, formidable wizard. Grindlewald was gaining too much of a reputation, his actions too public, and the outcry from the worldwide magical community was becoming too much for Dumbledore to ignore. He needed to be “stopped” but Dumbledore didn’t want to do it himself. He was grooming Riddle to clean up his mess.”

“What?” Severus’s eyes widened, “How can that be? The duel was famous!” 

“Exactly.” Harry’s mind was spinning. He saw it all, clearly. “It’s how he won control of the elder wand. It built his reputation as powerful and good. It set him up to be headmaster, and everyone wanted him to be minister, right? I bet it all came back to that one duel.”

“A duel with no witnesses. He’d made a blood pact with Grindelwald not to fight one another. There was no way around it, he needed someone else to fight” Percy shook his head, “So, he manipulated a 17-year-old who had just left Hogwarts. He pitted a kid against a fully grown wizard with years of experience in the dark arts.” 

“More than once,” Severus’ voice was drier than the Sahara, as he gestured toward Harry. 

But Harry was lost, deep in his own thoughts. “Seventeen years old,” he mumbled, then he looked up into his guest’s sympathetic faces. “Merlin! He was seventeen!”

“Yes, Harry,” Percy said, quietly, still thinking that Harry was seeing the similarities between himself and Riddle. 

“Seventeen.” Harry got up and started pacing, “don’t you see? Merlin’s beard, what an evil bastard.” He looked up into their uncomprehending faces. “The diary.” 

Severus sat back in shock, but Percy still looked confused. 

“Remember the diary, Percy? The one that Ginny had? It was a horcrux. Riddle’s first horcrux. And he was  _ sixteen _ when he made it. Riddle told me it was a way of preserving his memory. He—I don’t think he understood what he’d done till later. If Dumbledore told him it was a way to improve his chances in the duel, he’d have done it.” 

Percy looked horror struck. “He really did create Voldemort. Didn’t he?” 

“And then pitted a seventeen-year-old against another Dark Lord.” Harry added bitterly. 

“With plans to turn Harry into the next Dark Lord.” Severus finished, and the three sat in silence, contemplating the depths to which one old man would go to gain and retain magical power. 

“What I couldn’t figure out was why” Percy spoke into the silence. “Why on earth would Dumbledore do all that, all this. Power yes, but other than the destruction of Grindelwald, what did he get?” 

“I think I know.” Harry spoke grimly. “But to start with, he didn’t actually get the destruction of Grindelwald. He’s still alive somewhere, according to the goblins. I think Dumbledore has an obsession with him. It might have started out as some twisted version of love, but now, I think he just wants him there to witness his greatness. But as to what he wants? He wants the hallows. It’s been his lifelong obsession. He still wants them, and that’s why he’ll come here. Think about it.

“The first and most immediate result of the duel that no one saw was that the elder wand saw Tom Riddle as its master. If Dumbledore was quick enough with a disarming charm and an obliviate, he’d have control over it. He would have known that Riddle had the stone, as well. He was wearing it in his last year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore told me that the ring was a horcrux, which had cursed his arm when he retrieved it the summer before my sixth year, but then you saved him from the curse, Sir” Harry looked to Severus, who nodded, then looked confused, and then shrugged. He still hadn’t recovered all of his memories, and he’d had far less magical damage than Harry. 

“I no longer believe anything Dumbledore said to me.” Harry’s voice was rough with anger. “He could have had that ring for years. But whether he had it for days or decades, it doesn’t matter. He still needed the cloak to be the master of death. And then James came to school with the very cloak he wanted. He had possession of it, returned it to me during my first year with a note that said my father had loaned it to him. But that was false, too. He stole it from the Potter artifact vault. I’ve got the documentation from the goblins. I’m not sure why he handed it over, but maybe by then he knew he’d never master the hallows.” 

“But why not?” Percy asked. “If he had all three, why isn’t he the Master of Death?” 

Harry looked grim. “Because there’s another condition to the title.” He quoted Beadle the Bard: “‘And he greeted death like an old friend.’ It’s not enough to just hold the three items. One has to accept death. Maybe actually die, I don’t know. But that’s what I did in the forest that night. And he never has. He’s used the illusion of death. He’s sent others to their deaths. But he’s never faced it himself and accepted it as necessary, seen it as a relief.” 

Severus spoke up, “James would never have given over the cloak. It’s a family heirloom, tied to his line. I don’t believe he even let his friends use it without him there too.”

“I know, Sir. I’ve been thinking on that since Nev and I discovered the theft. I believe you’re right. He must have known that he wouldn’t get control over the cloak as long as James was alive. Merlin. That’s why—Godric’s Hollow.” He looked at Severus as though willing him to understand. “Don’t you see, Sir? As long as James was alive! There are too many coincidences surrounding that Halloween night, starting with the prophecy you overheard.”

“The prophecy?” Severus looked up. He had carried the guilt of that action for nearly twenty years. 

“The prophecy was given during a job interview. Why wasn’t the interview in his office? Why was he interviewing a drunk in a pub of all places? His brother’s pub, at that. And if he absolutely had to give an interview in a pub, why didn’t he choose to use privacy spells?” 

Severus collapsed back into his armchair. The prophecy was a set-up? But, then, all that guilt— “Potter, are you sure?” 

“No Sir.” Harry looked calmly back at dour man. “I have no answers, just suspicions and questions. But it’s why I don’t believe you are to blame in any way for my parent’s deaths. I have no proof, but I think that you were manipulated, and that he used you to manipulate Riddle. Your change of heart was a surprise to him. He may have agreed to try to hide us, but that didn’t turn out so well. He passed the blame and used the guilt he created to further manipulate you.”

Severus stood and began to pace. His anger needed an outlet. Percy looked stunned and sympathetic; the pity only making Severus angrier. Harry on the other hand had a look of absolute understanding on his face. Well, he would. The boy had been a pawn just as much as he had. 

“What do we do with all this?” Percy asked. 

“I think we start with Severus’ idea of the reporter. We let the world know that the bastard is alive and a thief. The goblins can provide verification of both those things. It’ll be his move, after that, and I think he’ll come after me.”

Severus nodded. “You won’t go anywhere alone?” 

“Of course not. I’m finally learning a little Slytherin self-preservation.” Harry smirked. “What will you do?”

“If I may make a suggestion,” It was Fleamont. The portraits had been quiet during the entire discussion, but now he spoke up. “In the potion’s vault at Gringotts. There’s a certain grimoire, in red leather. I think you’ll find it full of interesting possibilities.” The smile on his face made Harry see where his father had gotten some of his more vicious pranking ideas. 

Severus nodded at the portrait. “Indeed. Your son left provision in his will for me to use the potions vaults. I shall go investigate them as soon as may be.” 

“Good plan.” Harry nodded. “Percy, are you going to tell the family about this?”

“I wasn’t sure.” Percy hated doubting his family again after so recently reconciling with them. 

“Understandable, some of them really have no control when it comes to secrets.” Harry looked thoughtful. “But they need to be warned. We all suspected Dumbledore of horrible things, but not to this level of depravity.” 

“Perhaps an oath would suffice.” Severus broke in. “If they make an oath of secrecy, it would enable you to control the information but warn them of the dangers all the same.” 

“Talk to your dad first.” Harry decided. “I love Mum, but she gets over protective. I trust Arthur with the secret, and to know what’s best for the family. What he decides is okay with me.” 

On that, the three shook hands and walked back to the entry and the floo. On impulse, Harry hugged both men. “Be careful, both of you.” 

Severus looked completely taken aback by the hug, but not displeased, “You as well. Farewell.” He disappeared in a swoosh of green flames. 

“Bye Harry. And thanks.” Percy followed Severus into the floo, leaving Harry looking around his home with trepidation. When would the attack come? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! They still haven’t time traveled. Stick with me for two more chapters, and we’ll get there. There’s still a ton of story yet to come, the more they learn at this point, the better. And I’ve always thought that if Percy could get over being a pompous prat, and if Severus could get beyond the bitterness and misery, they’d be an interesting pair. Maybe not romantic— certainly not in this story anyway, but at least strong allies. But rest easy, I know what you’re really waiting for— our mains will be in the past by the end of the next chapter. 
> 
> Speaking of the next chapter, the title for it comes from I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.


	10. You felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s what you’ve all been waiting for. Nev, Harry, and Luna go back in time.

Two days passed before Harry could meet with Luna and Neville to explain Percy’s bombshell information and Severus’ conclusions. Eventually, though, they all were sitting happily in the study, with the portraits of Fleamont, Euphemia, James, Sirius, Linfred and Henry all looking on. 

To James, Sirius, Euphemia, and Henry, it was all new information as well, and they were particularly incensed. Euphemia had a gleam even in her portrait’s eyes that said she was not a witch to be crossed. 

Neville approved of the idea of using a reporter to announce Dumbledore’s survival. Linfred agreed with him, but that wasn’t news— Fred and Nev got on like a house on fire. Neville’s love of plants had endeared him to the old potioneer, who also had a fondness for green and growing things. Neville had been learning much about the uses of different plants, and his potions knowledge was improving as well. He was the only live person in the room who could interpret some of Fred’s brogue and old fashioned Scots idioms. 

Henry Potter, who had been a staunch advocate of supporting British muggles in the First World War was appalled that Dumbledore would offer his support to the enemies of Britain. He saw this as nothing less than treason to the British Wizarding and Muggle realms. 

James and Sirius couldn’t contain their rage, and Euphemia had to threaten them several times to mind their language in the presence of ladies. Harry smirked at his father and godfather, seeing them taken to task. James argued that he could say what he wished as it was his son that the headbastard was attacking. This earned him yet another telling off, and Sirius winked over at Harry. Who blushed and turned his attention back to his guests. 

Fleamont was speaking to Neville and Luna about Percy’s news, “There was something else, something important, in that, which I believe we may have missed, in our outrage at everything else.” He said, somberly. “I have been thinking on Dumbledore’s obsessions with family lines. He may have known something there.” 

“Well, sir, there’s the fact that muggleborns are actually magical,” Harry spoke up. “My mother,” James’s head spun away from his mother immediately. Harry had never mentioned his mother before this except in the abstract, and he was intensely curious. “She was a muggle born, but came from the squib lines of Aquitaine and Iceni.” 

“Harry!” Neville sounded excited, as though he had just realized something. “Where are your account books? The ones for those lines, in particular.” 

Harry ‘accio’d’ the books he wanted, and passed them over. 

“Yes. See?” Neville flipped open the Iceni accounts, and rapidly leafed through the pages. “There.” He put his finger in the page, and spun the book so Harry could see what he was talking about. Dumbledore had been stealing from his mother’s account since the 1970s. 

“But how did he know?” Harry was flabbergasted. He’d just found out because of an inheritance test. How could Dumbledore have known that his mother was the unknowing heiress? 

“Could be a couple of ways. He may have taken her blood into Gringotts and had Stonetooth do a test, or done research on the ancestral lines. He was so fond of obliviations, he may have even taken her into the bank and had her do it herself.” Neville shrugged. 

“He would have chosen the simplest way, I think.” Luna looked down at the parchments. “He would not risk getting caught, and he would want it done quickly.”

“Aye.” Piped up Linfred. “Many a mickle maks a muckle. A smart man’d take less from lots than lots from less. Fenugreek and Tumeric, laddie. Dinna be a numptie.” 

Harry looked up at his ancestor. That made no sense whatsoever to him, but Neville groaned, “Of course!” He looked over at Harry expecting him to understand, but Harry just looked back, bewildered.

“Was that English?”

Neville forced a reluctant chuckle, “sort of. There’s a potion that uses fenugreek, tumeric, horklump juice, and powdered unicorn horn that will reveal ancestry. But the unicorn horn makes it extremely expensive, so most wizards don’t bother. But, as your ancestor says, invest a little and earn a lot.” 

“That’s what he said?” Harry shook his head. He liked Linfred a lot, on principle, and he did have good ideas, but the man was usually a mystery to him. “So, Dumbledore has been using this potion on muggleborns, without their knowledge, and then ripping them off, with the help of his goblin friend Stonetooth.” He muttered a word his grandmother didn’t approve of under his breath. 

He was about to mention contacting the Creevey family or the Finch-Fletchleys to warn them about the possibility of theft, when he felt the wards send a jolt of electricity down his spine. That wasn’t just a floo contact. He looked up, worried. It happened again, stronger, and he ran out of the office to the great room. The portraits joined him almost immediately, and after a minute, so did Neville and Luna. Through the large windows in the front of the house, he saw Dumbledore, Hermione, Mad-eye, and a woman— Vance, he assumed— gathered in front of the house. 

Harry opened his mouth to tell Luna and Neville to escape through the floo, when they both took his hands. Luna shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you, Harry? We stand together.” 

Neville had a hard look in his eyes; it was the same look Harry had seen when Nev was explaining about the Carrows. He only said one word: “Godbrothers.” Harry nodded his head. It was nice to have these two stand at his side. 

“Okay then.” Harry said, “we need a plan.” He took out his wand and cast a patronus. “Hey Prongs. I need you to take a message to the Burrow, okay?” The stag bowed its head. “Go to Arthur, if you’ve a choice. Tell them Dumbledore, Moody, Granger, and Vance are here attacking the wards. Luna and Neville are with me, and I’m locking down the manor. Tell Percy to contact our mutual friend for help. Whatever happens, expose him. Contact Griphook, he’ll know what to do. And you’ve always been my family. I love you guys. Okay, go on Prongs.” With that, he set to work with the wards, reinforcing everything and securing all entry points to the house. Across the front garden, he could see the rage on Dumbledore’s face as he felt the renewed magic flowing into the house’s protections. 

Neville cast a spell on the window glass, making it permeable from the inside, while still shielded from the outside. Luna and Harry began casting, while Neville held the defense up, but their spells never hit. The attackers were too far away, and Harry didn’t want to leave the safety of the manor. He felt his patronus deliver its message to the Weasleys, and immediately cast a second. “Prongs, I don’t know where Severus Snape is, but I need you to get this message to him, Dumbledore, Granger, Mad-eye, and Vance are attacking the manor. I’m locking it down, but we may not last long. If you can, send help. If not, contact Percy and do what we decided. He needs to go. And thank you Professor. For all of it. Okay, Prongs, that’s it. Good luck.” 

He felt the foundations of the manor shake, and looked outside. Granger and Vance were still there, shooting spells at the wards, but Dumbledore and Moody had vanished. Harry felt dread growing in the pit of his stomach, which only worsened when Prongs returned and shook his head before fading away. 

“Pobrey. Maddey” Harry called his elves. “What’s going on with the wards?” They appeared in front of him, but shook their heads. 

“Master Harry, there is bad magics around us.” Maddey shook her head. 

“Bad magics?” Harry glanced at the elves before shooting more curses at Granger. “Explain, please”

“The bad wizards out there, they is casting a ring around us. Magic can’t get in or out. Even elf magics isn’t working.” Pobrey wrung his hands. “We is stuck here, Master Harry. But we doesn’t want to leave, anyway. House elves always will fight for their homes and masters. We is proud to be here with you.” 

“I’m proud to stand alongside you, as well Pobrey, Maddey. But I’m hoping we can still get out of this mess.” Harry again felt the earth shake. “Do you know what that is?” 

“Bad wizard attacking the heart of the manor, Master Harry.” Maddey looked extremely worried. 

Euphemia gasped, and Fleamont reached for her hand. “Harry! The heart of the manor is a stone buried deeply under the foundations of this house. It carries with it all the Potter family magics. If he breaks the stone, all the wards will dissolve, and you will lose the Potter portion of your magical heritage. It is only part of who you are, but losing it all at once will put you into shock. It might kill you. I’m not sure exactly. It’s not been done to any family, dark or light, since ancient times.” 

Harry looked up in a panic. “What do we do, then?” 

“You must defend the manor. You must put as many traps and snares between him and the stone as possible.” Euphemia spoke up. 

James and Sirius looked furious. Sirius spoke calmly, but quickly. “Harry, all those spells you worked on last year, and your fourth year, getting ready for the maze, everything you taught the DA, and from the Prince book, everything the goblins have taught you— it’s time to use it all now. You need to hold the wards. Take over the shielding from Neville. Let them attack, your job is to pour power into the wards. They have to hold.” 

Harry nodded at his godfather. His eyes were full of resolve. He held the phoenix feather wand in front of him, and centered himself. He cast his magic deep into the earth below him, and felt around for the stone. It was full of the warmth he associated with his family. Euphemia’s blend of gentleness and fierce protection, Fleamont’s calm leadership, James’ wild loyalty, all his ancestors and their strength were flooding him with power and warmth in this essential defense of their family line and family power. He started to ring the stone with layers of his magic, filling spells in between the layers, waiting to be triggered. He had never learnt this type of magic before. He lay down another layer and set bone crushing spells next to befuddlement jinxes, hoping to cause pain and confusion to anyone attacking. Another layer of magic, and he set up a ring of bombarda curses, facing outward. Another layer of magic, and another layer of defensive spells. He worked silently, sweating through his clothing. The work was exhausting. 

He was barely aware of Neville and Luna casting spells at the attackers through the window. He could hear Hermione screeching at him from outside the gate, but her lecture fell on him like so much white noise, as he focused single-mindedly on his task. More layers. More spells. More magic. 

He fell to his knees, panting, when he could add no more to the protections of his home. He looked up at his ancestors, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough. He was only one wizard, and there were four formidable people sending spells toward his home. This was his sanctuary. His retreat from the madness of the wizarding world. His grandmother smiled at him. “You did well, child,” she murmured. 

Fleamont looked impressed and worried at the same time. “You have a strong core, Harry. It will hold.” His eyes gave away the lie, but conveyed their pride at the same time. 

“Merlin, Harry. You have some kind of magic.” Sirius looked impressed. “Nobody could have done better.”

James just watched him. “When we say run, go to our portrait, Harry. You’ll be safe there.” Sirius spun around to stare at his best friend. 

Harry missed it, though, as he turned to watch Pobrey and Madden adding their magic to the defenses. 

He felt it, suddenly. It came razor sharp and as hot as white steel, blazing through his protections. He cried out and fell backward, knocking his head against the floor. Luna was there immediately, helping him sit up. 

“They’re gone. The layers, the spells, there’s nothing left.” Harry gasped out quickly, in a panic about what to do. “Something happened, it came in like lightning.” 

“He’s killed one of them then. It would take a soul sacrifice to drive through that much magic.” Henry looked grave.

“He killed one of his own?” Neville couldn’t fathom the betrayal, as he helped Harry to his feet. Harry was holding his head in his hands, unable to see for the pain he felt. 

“It’s time then.” James looked up at his parents. They nodded back, and smiled sadly. 

Luna held an arm around Harry’s shoulders, and looked up at the portrait holding James and Sirius, expectantly. “Time for what?” 

James looked at the three of them, saw their loyalty running deep, and knew that this was the only way to ensure their survival. Dumbledore would destroy them just for knowing his secrets. They would all have to go. “Head to the frame in my old room. Where you found us.” Harry nodded, and James continued, “open the frame, there’s a,” he paused, “a hiding place there. If you go through it, you’ll be safe.” 

Harry looked extremely skeptical. “But the stone? The heart of the manor? How can a tunnel help?” 

“Trust me. I may only be a teenager, but I love you, Son. This is how you will all survive.” 

Harry, Luna, and Neville hurried up the stairs as fast as Harry could manage. He could feel Dumbledore beating against the heart stone in his core as well as the shaking of the ground. It couldn’t hold out forever against such a barrage. He could feel the cracks forming. They raced down the hall and practically fell through the door to the heir’s suite. Harry had time to look once more into James’ and Sirius’ solemn faces before wrenching the portrait back. He could hear Sirius’s voice calling out a “Good luck, Harry” as he fell into the tunnel and hurried forward to give room to Luna and Neville. 

As he crawled through the tunnel, he felt the horrible pounding and cracking lessen, and then die away completely. The tunnel was completely dark, and he reached out for the others. Grabbing what felt like Neville’s hand, he kept stumbling forward, wondering where on earth he was going to come out. 

The wall that held the portrait was an outside wall, and as far as they had climbed straight forward, they should be in the sea by now. Harry kept one hand on the wall, and the other holding tight to his godbrother, and they inched forward. 

Finally, his hand hit what felt like a wall in front of him. “We’re at the end,” he murmured to the others. He leaned his head up against the wall to try and catch some sound, but could hear nothing but some faint piano music. 

He pushed against the wall in front of him, gently, and felt a bit of give. The wall was actually another portrait doorway. The other end of the passageway, it seemed. He pushed it further open, and tumbled out into the dining room. Neville and Luna fell out of the portrait behind him, and they all looked up at the sea-view, holding court over the massive dining table. They looked at one another, extremely confused, until a voice called from the end of the room, “Who the blazes are you?” 

Harry spun around on his heel, his wand raised, as he came face to face with his grandfather, this time, in the flesh.

***

In the room Harry, Luna, and Neville had just left, two young men stood in a portrait, waiting for the heart stone to break and their magic to fade. 

“Why did you do that?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I saw how you looked at him.” James smirked at his best friend, and brother in all but blood. “I’d do anything to make either of you happy.”

It was a good thing portraits couldn’t blush. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! As always, thanks for reading. And, um... don’t hate me too much, okay? I’ll post again tomorrow. It’s the first real ‘action’ scene I’ve written. Whatcha think? 
> 
> And if anybody’s following along or wants to guess at it, the next chapter title is from INXS “Need you Tonight.”


	11. Twenty-first century’s yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Neville, and Luna learn about the big Potter family secret, the nature of time travel, and settle into 1970. Fleamont and Euphemia are thrilled to meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the accuracy of Harry’s ancestry: In canon, Harry is the descendant of Ignotus, whose granddaughter, Iolanthe married Hardwin Potter. I have found nothing in canon regarding Gryffindor’s descendants, so I took a few liberties based on Dumbledore’s statement in CoS that only a “true Gryffindor” could pull the sword out of the hat. I’m guessing that most people here don’t mind, as the whole point of fan fiction seems to be taking liberties. I have tried to stick to canon and general historical accuracy where I can, and invent the in-between moments.

Harry’s nerves stretched taught, as he looked swiftly around the dining room of Potter Manor. His father’s portrait had said he would be safe here, but he did not feel safe. The room appeared almost the same, but some subtle differences stood out. The chairs were upholstered in a different shade, and the nicknacks on one of the sideboards were different than he remembered. He looked back up at the painting on the wall he had just tumbled out of. The constant storm still raged over the sea cliffs, without giving away any details. 

His grandfather’s question still hung in the air between them, but Harry’s wand didn’t waver. He had been raised to warfare, trained for battle from the time he was eleven years old, and conditioned to self-defense even before that. He and Neville and Luna had run here in search of safety leaving behind a pitched battle; he quite literally couldn’t let his guard down. The adrenaline wouldn’t let him. He looked up at the older man facing him. He saw the eyes soften around the edges. 

“Stand down, son. I won’t hurt you.” It was his grandfather’s kind, wise, solemn voice from the long conversations and strategy sessions of before. The man was holding his hands out to his sides, his wand wasn’t in sight. Some of Harry’s tension fell away. “You are safe here.” 

Harry let his wand fall. “Has he stopped? Is the heartstone safe?” 

“The heart?” Fleamont’s eyes widened. “Yes, it’s safe.” 

“Where’s Dumbledore?” Harry spun around again, trying to see out the large picture window into all angles of the garden. What was going on? The horrible pounding in his core had stopped, and it felt safe. In fact, he couldn’t feel the wards at all any longer. 

“Dumbledore?” Fleamont grew cautious. “Why would he be here? Do you know where you are, Son?” Fleamont glanced up at the portrait. He’d have sworn that the three teenagers had come through the tunnel, but there were other possibilities. The boy in front of him wasn’t making much sense. 

Until he said, “Potter Manor. Dumbledore was attacking us just seconds ago. The heart was going to break.” 

“Harry?” Luna’s voice from behind him broke through his panic. “Harry, look at us, please.” 

“What?” He turned around and saw immediately what the problem was. “What happened?” Luna looked like she did when he first met her. Neville had become small and round faced once again, all the puppy fat he’d lost once again filling him out a bit. Harry looked down at himself. He was shorter than ever, skinnier than he had been in a long time. He pushed his sleeves up. The back of his hand was free of Umbridge’s scars, but his inner arm bore the mark of Pettigrew’s knife. How was this possible? 

“Son, you fell through a time tunnel.” His grandfather sighed. “I’m not sure when you came from, but it’s currently the 17th of January 1975. Don’t ask me how it works. I’ve read some family journals, but they never explained the how of the time shift. The tunnel is one of the most important secrets the Potter family has kept. Whatever portrait was over the tunnel in your time must have featured a Potter from this time. My son, it looks like, or you would have come out my age.” 

“Your son. James. He knew about this?” Harry looked up at Fleamont, trying to hold on to his temper. What had his father been thinking? Go through the tunnel? Really? If this was a prank, he was going to burn that portrait. Well, no. Not really. But honestly, what had he gotten into now? 

“Well, I haven’t told him yet, no. He’s only fourteen. But his portrait would have known, especially if he was asked to guard the tunnel. The portraits consider it a very important duty, and would not open the tunnel unless the circumstances were dire. No one knows the origins of the tunnel. It has only been used twice before, and only when the Potter family was on the brink of disaster, as a means to correct mistakes. May I ask when you’re from? How old are you? Why you came?” Fleamont looked more closely at them. “But perhaps first, some tea and a chance to catch your breath.” He led the way into the great room across the hall, calling for a house elf. Pobrey popped in, goggled for a moment at Harry, Neville, and Luna, and then left with orders to bring in some tea and refreshments, and to alert Euphemia of their guests. 

Harry followed his grandfather, and sank onto one of the sofas, feeling Neville on one side and Luna on the other. He looked to both of them. “Sorry, guys. Potter luck.” 

Neville chuckled, “Godbrothers, Harry. We stand together, remember?”

Luna just smiled at him. 

Euphemia bustled in, and smiled at the three young teens one the sofa. “Hello Dears! Where did you come from?” Tea appeared, and she set to the task of pouring and passing. 

Fortified with a cup of strong tea, the three now-fourteen-year-olds set to the task of explaining their origins. The telling took longer than any of them expected, and they had to backtrack and explain many things. Night had fallen before all the questions were answered. 

“So, to summarize,” Fleamont wanted to make sure he had the events very clear in his mind. “You three, and one or two other children have been fighting the war against Voldemort since you were eleven years old, at the insistence of the headmaster.”

“Yes, but don’t call him that, please Sir. I know it’s ridiculous to be afraid of the name, but he’s going to put a geis on it. It’ll tear down wards and bring Death Eaters right to you, if you speak the name. We learned the hard way, and have had to become very cautious. I call him Riddle. That was his birth name.” 

“I see. Yes, that’s important news. Thank you for the warning.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Fleamont took him seriously. “So, you’ve been fighting a war, one the headmaster abandoned you to, in order to fake his own death. In the course of the war, you united the Deathly Hallows and became the Master of Death, but now the headmaster covets that title and intends to kill you to control it?” 

Harry nodded. “That’s the gist of it, yes. He’s been obsessed with the Hallows since he was a teenager. He was attacking the house when the portraits sent us through the tunnel.” 

Euphemia’s anger simmered through her veins. That horrible old man dared to attack her grandson in his own family manor? She glowered. She sent a look at the portrait of Iolanthe Peverell. The two women had spent hours discussing the family. When she had despaired of having children, it was Iolanthe’s words that saw her through, and the two of them had celebrated James’ birth together. Euphemia had been suspicious of the old man when he started sniffing around during James’ 8th birthday, acting like a doting grandfather. She hadn’t liked the way he treated her son at the school either. He and his little gang of friends were completely out of control if what she heard from some of her society friends was accurate, and the headmaster’s idea of discipline left much to be desired. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. What was he planning for her son? Her grandson? 

“Was there more he wanted,” she asked, “more than just the Hallows?” 

“To be honest, I’m not sure what he wanted. He was doing a lot of shady things. He stole money and items from the Potter and Peverell vaults, and all of my mother’s family vaults. We know he has some bizarre ideas about magical strength. He was working with Hitler of all people. He’d also been dosing me and the sister of a friend with love potions.” Harry blushed as he mentioned this. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with Ginny! But the feelings weren’t natural. I’m not even attracted to girls” He blushed immediately, realizing that he had essentially just come out to his grandparents. Grandparents who lived in the 1970s. Was that even legal? 

Before he could work himself up too much, his grandfather chuckled. “Not to worry, Son. I admired both before I met Fifi. It’s not at all the same problem in the wizarding world as it is in the muggle one. In fact, a lot of our family has been enamored of their own gender, and some haven’t been interested in romance at all. I think Abraham was asexual, actually. You just be yourself.” He ended with a kind smile, and Harry’s internal panic settled. 

“He has also gone after Neville’s family.” Luna added. “Not as comprehensively, but he and his manipulations have been behind a lot of pain.” 

“Well,” Fleamont sounded decided. “It’s a good thing that you’re here. We have a chance to set it all right. And it hardly needs be said that your family will stay your family. You being from the future does not change that aspect at all.” 

“Of course, not.” Euphemia smiled at all three of them. “We both love you, Harry. Neville, Luna, we would like you to be family as well, of course. We’ll have to work out some sort of story for where you came from, but that can wait till the morning. For now, I think baths and beds are best. Let’s head upstairs, and we can transfigure some pajamas for you.”

As they reached the top of the stairs, Harry looked toward the heir’s suite. “Can we go back?” He whispered up to his grandfather. 

“No, Harry,” he replied sadly. “Even if the wards weren’t collapsing and the heart stone threatened where you’re from, it would be impossible. The tunnel always sends you to roughly the same time the portrait guardian was painted, and when you emerge, you’ll be the same age as the guardian. You say my son was the tunnel guardian? We’ve only just commissioned a portrait of him. He’s going to sit for it over the Spring holidays, and then it’ll be delivered in the summer. We cannot send you back, because we have no portrait of a future Potter at age 18.” 

“But Neville! Luna! They have to go back! Their families.” Harry looked frantically at his two best friends. 

Fleamont shook his head, “I’m very sorry, but it’s impossible. We will make their lives the best they can be here. But we just don’t know how to return any of you.” 

“We just live our lives here?” Harry was astounded. “But, they have families and what about their lives and their friends?” 

Fleamont nodded. “I understand your concern, of course, and I’m very sorry your friends have been dragged away from their lives. It’s why the portraits take their guardianship of the tunnel so seriously. It’s a one-way trip, I’m afraid.” 

“I don’t understand. What if, what if we painted a picture instead. I could tell you what the 1990s looked like.” 

Fleamont shook his head. “But the painting would have been crafted in the 1970s. The magic that governs the tunnel would recognize it as an artifact of 1975.” 

Harry was overwhelmed. What a day it’d been so far. He looked at Luna. “Your father. Luna, I’m so—“

“Don’t you be sorry, Harry Potter.” Her voice was fierce and she stood in front of him. He’d never seen Luna this focused or determined ever. “I told you. I told you in Gringotts, weeks ago. We’re going to be siblings. I lost my father, yes, and I will be sad about it, yes, but I get so much more. I get brothers, and I get parents, and I get new friends and old friends, and I’m not giving any of you up. We all know my father tried his best, but he wasn’t really a parent. He’ll get a second chance too, and maybe he’ll be better this time.” Harry interrupted her rant with a hug. He held on to her tightly, and felt Neville join them. 

“I’ll never be sorry to be with you both.” Neville’s voice was full of quiet conviction. 

Fleamont wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders, and she leaned in to his embrace, “What did our grandson have to live through?” she whispered.

“We’ll make it better, this time, Fifi. I promise.” He replied. They took the three teens to rooms on the heir’s side of the hall. Luna chose one overlooking the garden, and the boys settled on the sea-view side of the house. It was late, and they used both upstairs bathrooms to clean up and then settled into their beds. 

The next morning, they met in the dining room, and settled in over eggs and toast to make plans for living in the 1970s. Harry had not slept well, despite his exhaustion from the previous day, and was wishing for some strong coffee, when it appeared next to him. He grinned, “Thanks Pobrey!” He called, and heard a giggle come from the kitchens. 

Fleamont smiled, but got down to business. “Well, I suppose we need to solve the problem of your origins, first. I have an uncle, who might be helpful. He passed away several years ago, but I believe he left behind a bit of family. I’ll need to confirm it with the family tree, but if we claim you as a recently orphaned part of that branch of the family, it might do.”

Euphemia nodded, “Well, they didn’t just fall out of a portrait, after all.” She had a mischievous glint in her eye when she said it. “We’ll need to go shopping, as well. They’ll need clothing at the very least.” 

“We need to make a trip to Gringotts, first and foremost. The goblins can help with both the ancestry and the shopping fund.” Harry sounded firm. He’d woken before dawn and didn’t want to risk more nightmares, so he’d sat up thinking about solutions. 

“Shopping fund?” Fleamont sounded insulted. “We will provide you with the necessities, I think, young man.” 

Harry smiled at his grandfather. “Sir, I may look 14, but I’m an adult. Neville and I would have turned 18 in less than a week, in our time. I hold eleven lordships. Or, I held them, anyway. I’m not sure what happens to them now that I’m back here. You’re Lord Potter, Peverell, and Gryffindor. I suppose Orion Black is Lord Black.” He looked up with a question in his eyes. Fleamont nodded, stunned at the number of titles and the sheer power his grandson held. “Exactly, Tom Riddle is undoubtedly Lord Gaunt and Slytherin in this time period, and I don’t want to draw his attention at this point, so probably best not to claim those either.” 

“You said I’m Lord Gryffindor?” The shock was wearing off and Fleamont started to pay attention to what his Grandson was saying. “I knew about Potter, of course, and Peverell must be thanks to Iolanthe, but what’s this about Gryffindor?” 

“You’re a bloodline heir to the founder.” Harry nodded. “Or, well, I am, and they said it came from my father’s bloodline, so I assumed it was you. It could be Grandmother, I suppose.” 

Euphemia smiled. It was the first time Harry had referred to her that way. “I believe it is Fleamont’s ancestor. Iolanthe mentioned the founder once or twice.”

“Isn’t she great?” Harry grinned at his grandmother. “I love her. She’s got some great stories about her ancestor’s cloak. And yes, that makes the most sense.” 

He turned back to his grandfather to tell the next part of the story, “The three brothers were Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. Salazar Slytherin was an indirect descendant of Cadmus Peverell, and Gryffindor a descendant of Ignotus. The Slytherins inherited the Resurrection Stone, but not the title. According to the goblins, the lordship first went to Antioch, but he died without issue. Cadmus had two girls, who, for whatever reason couldn’t inherit the title. So it went to the third brother, Ignotus. He’s our ancestor. He had a few sons, but the name eventually died out, when Iolanthe married Hardwin Potter. She probably told you that her father didn’t care about convention, and changed the family charter to give her the title regardless. She was Lady Peverell when she married Hardwin. That’s why the title became part of the Potter estate. Her father respected him, and knew that he would abide by her decisions regarding the estate. The Gryffindor title comes hidden through several different women ancestors, Iolanthe’s mother was a Gryffindor, and the only child of her parents to survive infancy. The Gryffindor and Peverell lines were entwined before that, but it was several generations before Iolanthe’s parents were born. So, Iolanthe was the only descendant of both the Peverell line and the Gryffindor line, but she carried the Peverell name since that was her dad. When she married Hardwin Potter, she brought a lot of influence with her.” 

“He loved me.” Iolanthe spoke from the portrait over their shoulder. “He never cared about any of that.”

“Of course he did!” Euphemia spoke up. “Potter men always marry for love. If they don’t love, they don’t marry.” Her husband smiled at her. 

“It’s true.” He grinned. “We are a romantic lot, and we don’t much care where we find love.” He winked at his grandson, who groaned into his hands.

Euphemia’s eyes narrowed. “It’s why the idea of some nosy thieving manipulative old fart dosing my grandson with a love potion is reprehensible.” 

Harry looked up and nodded. “He started on Ginny when she was only five years old. He’s a monster.” 

“Five?” Euphemia’s voice grew very quiet and smooth. Her eyes glinted from behind slits and the feel of the magic in the room was palpable. “He dosed a five year old with a love potion?” 

Harry thought he ought to be frightened of his grandmother, but truthfully, seeing someone so angry on his behalf—well, his and Ginny’s he supposed— made him nearly giddy. “Amortentia,” he told her, nodding. 

Luna poked him in the side, “Don’t tickle a sleeping dragon, Harry.” 

He grinned sheepishly at his sister. “But it’s the truth Luna. They need to know.” 

“True,” Neville agreed. “Especially if what we suspect is correct.” 

That took the glee right out of Harry. Their suspicions made it even more important to visit and establish good relations with the goblins. Dumbledore, that meddling horrible old man, was going to regret his decisions to play “matchmaker.” 

“Grandfather,” he cleared his throat a bit. “What happens if we change things too much?” 

“Too much?” Fleamont looked confused, “What do you mean, Harry?”

Harry knew he would need his grandparents’ help with many things, and he was insecure enough to worry about their affections. If he was never born, he’d never be their grandson. Would they still help him? He wanted to believe it, but he wasn’t sure, so he fudged the details a bit. “Well, like, what about Nev’s parents? What if, because we’re here, they don’t meet or don’t like each other much or something else happens?” He sent an apologetic look at Neville. He didn’t want to interfere at all in Frank and Alice’s relationship. From all accounts, the two had been very much a love match and devoted to each other and their son. 

Neville’s eyes flashed with worry and hurt, but then he looked at Harry. He knew Harry wouldn’t say something like that lightly. 

“You mean, would this Neville, cease to exist?” Fleamont asked. 

“Yeah, or even, if they still got married and had a kid, but the timing was slightly off, and it was a girl instead of Neville.” Harry added. “I’ve heard horror stories about people who mess with time.” 

“I see. No, you will not cease to exist, none of you, should your parents not have you, or have a different ‘version’ of you. And yes, Harry, you will always be our grandson, even if you are never born in the future.” Fleamont sent a meaningful look at Harry, who blushed. It felt strange being found out by a parental figure. It hadn’t happened before. “It’s possible that you will be born sometime in the future, but the likelihood is extremely slim. The odds are very long on the exact sperm meeting the exact egg and maturing in exactly the same manner under the same circumstances. In fact, if it were to happen that way, it could be dangerous for you.”

“Dangerous?” Harry looked worried.

“You would exist twice in one time period,” Fleamont explained. “You’ve heard of time turners?” Harry nodded. His third year and Buckbeak the hippogriff flashing across his memory. “Time turners can only move backward a short time. One full day, or 24 turns of the hourglass is the maximum. The danger of time turners is encountering your previous self. With less than 24 hours between your past self and your present self, there is no substantial difference between you. That’s why wizards go mad if they see themselves.” 

Fleamont took a sip of his tea before continuing, “At present, there is no alternate version of you running around in the world. As you live your life here and now, which you must do, you will interact with people and change just enough about the flow of life here, that your present incarnation will likely never exist in the future. After all, the tunnel was designed with the express purpose of changing things. The risk of seeing yourselves is minuscule. And, if it should happen, the age difference should work in your favor. It is unlikely that your younger self would recognize you.” 

“So, we can stop Dumbledore, and not worry about paradoxes or going mad.” Harry summarized. 

“Just so.” Euphemia smiled at the three. 

“One other thing, before we leave. I think it’s best to discuss the serious things behind family wards,” Fleamont sounded solemn. “I’ve been thinking about this war with Vol— uh, Riddle.” 

Harry nodded. “You needn’t worry, Sir. I know how to defeat him, and it’s the first thing I want to change.” 

“Yes,” Fleamont nodded. “From what you’ve said, Dumbledore uses the fear that Riddle inspires to gain more loyalties and power. Putting a stop to him soon, would not only reduce the damage he does, but also limit Dumbledore’s power. It’s a good idea. But I don’t like the thought of you doing it on your own. You’ve said that the headmaster left you to take care of a dark lord stronger than Grindelwald. I hope you’re not expecting me to stand aside and do the same.” 

Harry smiled at his grandfather. He was so accustomed to bearing the entire weight of the war on his own shoulders that having someone, an adult, someone who was older and who should protect him, actually do so felt both strange and wonderful. “I will remember what you said, Sir. Your help will be invaluable to me. For now, I think establishing ourselves in the world and training more are the most important things.”

“Your idea has merit.” Fleamont wiped his mouth, and set his napkin aside. “We will go first to Gringotts. It sounds like you need to get your lordships sorted out, and I will take up the Gryffindor title. It’ll give me a little more pull on the board. No offense Harry. I don’t want to take it from you, but as an adult, I’ll have more influence than an unknown teenager.” 

“Makes perfect sense, Grandfather. I don’t really want all this responsibility anyway. The two titles I’ll keep are going to be more than enough trouble for me. But they’re mine, and no one else can claim them away.” 

“What titles, Sweetheart?” Euphemia smiled at him. 

“Emrys and Mors.” Harry said grimly. They were two of the oldest and most powerful titles in the magical world. He’d won their loyalty when putting the rings on for the first time in the bank. He was keeping them. 

“Merciful heavens.” Fleamont looked at his grandson, astounded. “Emrys?” 

“And Mors.” 

“How did you manage that?” 

“Emrys was magically granted. It’s mine or it’s nobody’s, and so I’m keeping it. Mors was granted as a magical accomplishment— uniting the Hallows and accepting death. Again, it’s not something anyone else can do, although Dumbledore will give it a good try over the next few years. I’m keeping the title.” Making sure that Dumbeldore didn’t get what he wanted so badly was number one on his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I know this chapter isn’t all that exciting, but things’ll pick up again soon.
> 
> Next chapter title is stole—ahem— BORROWED from New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle”


	12. Why can’t we be ourselves like we were yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Gringotts (but just for the one chapter, I promise!), our time travelers establish new identities and get a few surprises along the way.

Harry, Neville, Luna, Fleamont, and Euphemia stepped into Gringotts. Fortunately for Harry, this time, no one noticed anything, and the work continued on as it usually did. He sighed in relief, and stepped into one of the teller lines. He wasn’t sure how things would go this time. On the one hand, he didn’t have any bad history with the goblins. No doubt, the dragon was still tethered down in the high security vault area, poor thing. On the other hand, he had no trust built up with them, either. There was nothing for it, he decided. He would have to flash the important rings and hope for the best. 

Their turn was called, and they stepped up to the window. Fleamont greeted the goblin teller and requested a meeting with Ironclaw, his account manager. As he was speaking, Harry nudged magically at the Emrys ring to make it visible, and casually put his hand on the ledge in front of the goblin, as though waiting for his grandfather to complete his business. The goblin’s eyes widened significantly and rose to meet Harry’s. Harry, remembering Griphook, smiled but kept his teeth from showing, and subtly bowed his head. The teller’s jaw dropped as well. Harry moved his hand in front of his mouth, motioning for silence. The goblin gathered his wits and nodded. He looked up at Fleamont, who had watched this interaction with interest.

“Follow me.” The goblin teller moved toward one of the side corridors and spoke rapidly to the guards, who stood aside for them to enter. 

“May I have your name, Master Goblin?” Harry always liked knowing who he was dealing with. 

“I am Gornak, Lord Emrys.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Goblin Gornak.” Harry replied. “Where are we going?” 

“I believe the chieftain will wish to speak with you. Lord Potter and your companions may attend, if it is your wish, or we will conduct them to Ironclaw to complete their own business.” 

Harry turned to look at his grandfather, “Sir? I’m fine either way, what would suit you?” 

“We will stay together, Harry.” Harry nodded, that seemed best to him as well. 

“Lead the way, if you will, Goblin Gornak.” After many, long, winding, dark, corridors, and a few light airy tunnels, surrounded by clerestory windows, and four sets of goblin guards, including a surprised Urkhelm, whom Harry greeted by name, the group found themselves in front of a tall set of double doors, and yet another pair of heavily armed goblins. 

They were made to wait outside as one of the guards conducted Gornak inside. Through the open door, they could hear quite a lot of gobbledegook, and then a strong clear voice calling “enter.” 

Harry, Neville, and Luna had spent a considerable amount of time with the goblins over the past few weeks in their own time, but had never been introduced to the goblin ruling family. Each of the humans felt far out of their depth as they entered what could only be called a throne room. 

“Lord Emrys, Lord Potter, and companions.” Gornak introduced them, and they bowed. 

“I am Ragnok II, Goblin Chieftain of Gringotts, British Division.” They rose and the king indicated seats in front of an ornate table. It did not escape anyone’s notice that the king spoke only to Harry. 

“Greetings, Chieftain Ragnok.” Harry responded. “I believe it would save time if we were to each perform an inheritance test. Naturally, we expect that the goblin nation will take the fees from the Emrys coin vault.” 

“Your access to that vault is subject to a successful inheritance test.” Ragnok didn’t sound particularly grumpy, but he didn’t sound exactly pleased either. “The ring on your finger is known to be in Gringotts’ possession.” 

“And so it is, at the moment.” Harry nodded respectfully. 

The chief of the goblins did not have his position because he was stupid. “You will first accept the consequences of a debt to the goblin nation should the test not be in your favor.” 

“Naturally.” Magic flared between them, sealing the bargain. Fleamont wanted to shout that the Potter vaults would cover his grandson’s debt, but decided to allow Harry some leeway in his negotiations. He had seen the respect his grandson garnered in the few short minutes he had spent in the goblin’s company. It was difficult, but he decided to follow Harry’s lead. 

Ragnok placed 5 sheets of parchment on the edge of the massive desk, facing his visitors. Harry stood and placed his palm in the center of his page, knowing what would be revealed. Neville and Luna did likewise, and after a moment, the elder Potters joined them. Soon, their blood began the work of creating an inheritance document. Once it finished, Harry wandlessly healed all their palms. He had learned during his mind healing meetings that goblins did not allow wand-magic beyond the foyer of the bank. This was something of a cheat, but he felt good about it nonetheless. He would respect goblin culture, but he refused to be less than he was. 

Harry passed his test over to the king without looking at it. He knew what it said already. The king’s eyes widened. Harry spoke into the shocked silence, “Obviously, you can see the problem. Lord Potter is wearing his family ring, but so am I. I am also wearing the symbols of other noble houses, which rightfully belong to others in this time. I wish to return some of them, leaving the titles to their proper bearers, but I am not sure how the bank will manage the duplicates.” 

Ragnok looked up at this wizard who was willing to relinquish what was not properly his, and he bestowed a rare wide smile in approval. “Which lines do you wish to abdicate?”

“Potter and Gryffindor, Peverell, provided it belongs properly to my grandfather, Fleamont Potter. Black, naturally, I have no right to it at all. Aquitaine, Poitiers, and Iceni,” He held up his hand, knowing what the debate would be. “I know they have not been held in generations, but I also know who the proper holder should be. I will ensure she comes to the bank within the year, or I will return to claim them.” 

Ragnok nodded, this young man thought like a goblin: Keep things proper, but make a profit. 

Harry continued, “I hesitate over the Gaunt and Slytherin titles. I know who might hold the lines at the moment, but I don’t know if he actually does. If you can tell me, has Tom Marvolo Riddle claimed either Lordship?” 

“As you have a claim to the titles, I will tell you, he is recognized as the heir only, and only to the Gaunt line. He may say that he is the ‘heir of Slytherin,’ but the Slytherin line does not recognize him.” 

Harry smiled, evilly. “Then I would like to retain the Lordship of both lines. Can I thus disinherit him? Cut him off from all funds?”

“You can.” Ragnok again smiled his approval. 

“Well,” Harry thought for a moment. “That’s good information to have. At the moment, I do not wish to reveal myself, so let’s hold off. Does the parchment list me as Regent to House Lupin? If so, I relinquish the duty.” He passed over the last ring he was planning on giving up. “I will keep the last two, as they are mine alone to claim.” 

“Very well, Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt.” Ragnok put the rings Harry had returned into his desk drawer. 

Harry sat back and whispered to Neville, “That ought to give the old man palpitations.” Neville snorted in amusement, which drew Ragnok’s attention to him. 

“Your test, young sir?” Neville handed his parchment over. He hadn’t even looked at it; he was too busy listening to Harry’s. 

Inheritance test for Neville Franklin Longbottom, 1980-07-30, Longbottom Manor, UK

-Sire: Franklin Grant Longbottom

-Bearer: Alice Susanna Longbottom, Née Fortescue

-Godparents: Fabian George Prewitt, Lily Grace Potter, née Evans

Title Acquisition Vault(s)

Longbottom

| 

Lord; Paternal bloodline

| 

Vaults 837-872, Coin, Relics, Library, Conservatory  
  
---|---|---  
  
Pendragon

| 

Once and Future King of Wizarding Britain; magical grant

| 

Vault 12- artifacts, portraits

Vault 13- coin

Vault 14- weapons  
  
Ambrosius

| 

Lord, Magical Grant

| 

Vaults 35-40, Library, coin, records  
  
“Whoa, Nev!” Harry was leaning over to read the test upside down at the same time as Ragnok looked over it. 

“What?” Neville looked confused. “I know I have to give up the Longbottom lordship. Is there something else?” 

Harry started to snicker at him. “You haven’t looked at it? Your Highness?” 

“What’re you talking about?” Neville looked annoyed. Ragnok looked awed. 

Harry kept laughing. “You know, Nev, strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government!” Unfortunately it didn’t take long for Harry to realize that he was the only one who knew what he was talking about. Dudley had been watching the film while he was cleaning the living room, and he’d found it hilarious. Dudley hadn’t understood any of it, though.

Luckily, Neville and Ragnok ignored him. “You are the Pendragon heir, and upon this confirmation, King of all Wizarding Britain,” the goblin king acknowledged his wizarding counterpart with a bow. Neville’s jaw dropped, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. 

Euphemia caught him and settled him back into his chair. “He’ll be fine. And you,” she turned stern eyes on her grandson, “will not tease him.” 

“Of course not, Grandmother.” Harry’s eyes danced with glee. “What about Luna? And you?” 

“We shall see.” Euphemia nodded at Luna to pass over her test, which she did with a small smile at Harry. 

Inheritance test for Luna Claire Lovegood, 1981-02-13, Lovegood House, Ottery St. Catchpole, UK

-Sire: Xenophilius Lovegood

-Bearer: Pandora Delfinia Lovegood, née Agapastina

-Godparents: —

Title Acquisition Vault(s)

Lovegood

| 

Matriarch

| 

Vault 444-460, Coin, family records  
  
---|---|---  
  
LeFey

| 

Lady, Magical Grant

| 

Vault 15, Coin

Vault 16, Artifact

Vault 17, Library  
  
du Lac

| 

Lady, Magical Grant

| 

Vaults 77-80, Coin, Records, Weapons  
  
“Luna?” Harry sounded stunned. “You’re the heir to the LeFey line? You’re the Lady of the Lake?”

“Yes.” Luna smiled at him, “But don’t worry, I’m not going to hand out any swords.” 

“Sorry.” Harry grinned sheepishly. “I’ll show you the film sometime. It’s funny.” 

“Okay.” Luna sounded the same as usual, a little distracted, a little disconnected. “Chieftain, I relinquish the Lovegood Matriarchy, to my mother Pandora, as it should be.” She nodded in respect to the leader of the goblin nation. 

He nodded back at her. “So it shall be, Lady.” 

Neville was brought around again, but sat still, looking stunned at his new role in the world. “Harry,” he whispered, as Fleamont handed over his and Euphemia’s tests together. The only change would be the addition of the Gryffindor and Peverell titles to his name. “Harry, what am I gonna do?” 

“Nev, honestly, all teasing aside, you’re perfect for it. And right now, the only ones who know anything about it are us and the goblins. You look 14, so you’ve got some time before anybody’s going to expect anything from you. We’ll train, all three of us. You’re not alone. Godbrothers, remember? And Luna says we’re siblings, so you know that’s gonna happen. 

“We’re going to have plenty of work cut out for us if anybody discovers these titles, so we’ll prepare for it. And,” he snickered, “if you get in over your head, just think of the look on Dumbledore’s face when he realizes that the kids he discarded, ignored, and marked for death are going to be ruling Britain some day.” Neville chuckled at that, and Luna wrapped an arm around each of them. 

“Chieftain Ragnok,” Harry spoke up. “My siblings and I would like to request new identities from the Goblin Nation.” 

“The goblin nation will provide them, for a fee.” Ragnok replied formally, and then added, “Did you have anything in mind, Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt?” 

“Well, for starters, just call me Harry, please. And yes, my grandfather has agreed that we should be connected to the Potter family through his uncle’s line.” Harry looked up at Fleamont. 

“My Uncle Charlus married Dorea Black, and they had a daughter. It’s not widely known as they moved to the continent, but their daughter died as a child. I thought these three could be added to the family tree as that daughter’s fictitious children.” 

“A good option. We will arrange the documentation. What about names?” 

Harry spoke up again, “I’d like to stay as anonymous as possible. I’m not going to use the Emrys, Slytherin or Gaunt titles publicly. Mors is powerful, but not as well known. If the daughter of Charlus and Dorea married Ambrus Mortis, Lord Mors, then I would like to be Harrison Adhara Mortis.”

“A good name, son.” Fleamont smiled at him. “Why Adhara?” 

“My godfather was a Black. Adhara is the second brightest star in the constellation Canis Major.” 

Fleamont and Euphemia smiled. They knew who James would choose as godfather. It was good that Harry had a positive relationship with Sirius. 

Neville spoke up, “I think Neville Arthur Mortis, for me. It doesn’t shout my title, but still gives it significance.” 

“Chieftain Ragnok, I should like to name Neville Arthur Mortis, heir to the Mors title.”

“Harry!” Neville shouted, embarrassed. “Don’t I have enough to be going on with?” 

“Yes, but Nev, if you need it, you’ll be addressed as Heir Mors, instead of His Royal Highness the Pendragon King of All Wizarding Britain. I thought you might like to go incognito too.”

“Oh, good point.” 

“So it shall be, Lord Mors.” Ragnok nodded. 

“My name will remain mostly the same: Luna Claire Mortis, Lady LeFey.” 

“So it shall be, Lady LeFey.” 

Fleamont had been thinking. “You’re all of an age, and I think death in childbirth, giving birth to triplets makes sense for your mother, my cousin. Your father, Lord Mors, raised you, but an accident caused his early death, and you fell to Euphemia’s and my guardianship, as your last relations.” They nodded, smiling at each other. Fleamont continued, “I think then, Chieftain, we would request the accounting books for the vaults associated with our new titles, and our business will be concluded.” 

“Nearly, Grandfather.” Harry spoke up again. He looked his question at Neville and Luna, and seeing confirmation in their eyes, turned to Ragnok. “In our previous life, we petitioned the goblin nation for mind healing. We should very much like to continue, if Goblin Healer Talon is available for three human clients.” 

“You wish for a goblin mind healer, Lord Mors?” Ragnok was shocked. Humans usually had an antagonistic, prideful attitude toward goblins. He had never met one who was willing to relax, be honest, and respectful with his kind. 

“Oh yes! Healer Talon is wonderful.” Luna enthused. 

Neville nodded sincerely, “The three of us have survived abuse, imprisonment, torture, and war. Healer Talon helped us before. We would like to continue, if she is willing.” Euphemia put her hands over her mouth, horrified at the matter-of-fact way Neville outlined their lives to date. She vowed her own revenge against Albus Dumbledore. She knew he was to blame. 

Ragnok looked at the three time travelers in front of him with clearer eyes. “You intend to change things.” It wasn’t a question, but they all nodded solemnly. These weren’t the young teenagers they appeared. He had seen them laughing and teasing one another and been fooled. These were warriors in front of him. He stood before them, hit his chest with a closed fist. “Ragnok II, Chieftain of the Goblin Nation at Gringotts British Division hails you Harrison Adhara Mortis, Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt, Goblin Friend.” Harry stood and moved to face him. They grasped forearms in a warrior’s greeting, and bowed to one another. He spoke again, “Ragnok II, Chieftain of the Goblin Nation at Gringotts British Division hails you Luna Claire Mortis, Lady LeFey duLac, Goblin Friend.” Luna took her turn to grip arms and bow. Finally, “Ragnok II, Chieftain of the Goblin Nation at Gringotts British Division hails you Neville Arthur Mortis, Once and Future King of All Wizarding Britain, Lord Ambrosius, Goblin Friend.” Neville didn’t bow, but he stood before Ragnok, copied his chest thump, and gripped his forearm, a meeting of equals. 

Fleamont looked at Harry and his friends with pride. Very few wizards were named Goblin Friend. It was an honor rarely bestowed, and always to those the goblins considered warriors. That the goblins looked on his teenaged grandson as a warrior troubled him, but only because of how difficult he knew Harry’s life must have been. He saw Harry’s kindness, strength, and his respect for all creatures, even after only one day’s acquaintance. 

Euphemia wiped a tear away as she witnessed the ceremony between her grandchildren and the goblin chief. She knew that strength of the kind that the goblins recognized came from survival, and she shuddered to think what Harry and the others had survived. She leaned over and took her husband’s hand. A look of understanding passed between them, and they smiled. 

Ragnok spoke again. “What can Gringotts do for you, Friends?”

Harry looked evenly at Ragnok. “We need goblins whom we trust at the helm of our accounts. We know the importance of the vaults we are reopening, and we have the skill and the knowledge to grow them significantly. But we need goblins who will trust the teenagers we appear to be, who will not think to take advantage of our youth.”

“Do you have a goblin in mind?” Ragnok looked up. 

“I should first like to hear your opinion on Goblin Griphook, Chieftain.” Harry said. 

“Young and inexperienced, but clever.” Ragnok answered. “If you prove yourselves to him, he would be foolish to lose the opportunity. He is not foolish.” 

Harry nodded. “In light of his inexperience, and my own, a six month probationary period? If we suit, a long term situation.” 

Ragnok pressed a rune carved into his desk and spoke in gobbledegook. Soon, Griphook entered and the offer was explained. He looked carefully at the trio, and nodded. “Agreed.” 

“Agreed.” Harry answered, and the bargain was struck. 

Harry turned once again to the chief. “Ragnok, I was once told that the goblin nation offers training and education. Do they extend those privileges to human clients?”

“In rare situations, Harrison. Shall I find tutors for you?” 

Harry smiled, “Yes, please. I think we would all do well to learn the mind arts, particularly occlumency. I am also interested in defense of all types—muggle, magical, weapons, etcetera. And possibly runes. I’ve noticed your use of them in the bank, and they’re fascinating.” 

Neville spoke up, “I would love to take lessons in warfare and battle magic, defense too.”

“I would like to learn anything you are willing to teach about creatures and creature cultures. I find them fascinating.” Luna added. 

“Do you permit others to learn gobbledegook? I think we’d all like language lessons.” 

Ragnok surprised them by barking out a chuckle, “I shall arrange tutors for each of you. You will begin with goblin culture, law, and language. You may then request additional subjects.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, Chieftain Ragnok, Manager Griphook.”

Griphook handed Harry a familiar pile of account books, but this time, he also had some for Luna, Neville, and Fleamont. “Your account manager, Ironclaw, will be pleased to know of the new accounts and vaults you control. Expect correspondence from the bank within the day.” 

Fleamont nodded and took the folders. “I would expect nothing less from him. He always does exemplary work.”

“Lord Emrys Mo—“ 

Harry held up a hand, “Just Lord Mors will do, Manager Griphook. Or Harrison if we don’t need to be formal. I don’t want the world to know who I really am just yet.”

“Of course, Harrison. I shall review the accounts and you will be hearing from me soon regarding their condition. I presume I can reach you with your family?” He looked up at the elder Potters.

“For the moment, Manager Griphook. But we are going to establish our own home. The Potters’ lives have been interrupted enough by us, and we have plans we’ll need to work on. All three of us are quite independent.” Harry added that last bit more for his grandparents’ benefit. “It would be helpful if, in your first correspondence, you would include a list of habitable properties.” 

“It shall be done.” Griphook stood. “If there is nothing else?” 

“No, thank you Griphook.” 

“Thank you, Young Lord.” His account manager took his leave. 

Ragnok laughed and smiled at his guests. “You three are going to upset the mine cart, aren’t you?” 

“We’re going to try, Sir.” Harry grinned, as the chieftain ushered them from his office, where one of the guards would see them through the maze of corridors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I haven’t made it clear— thank you for the warm reception. I appreciate all the notes of encouragement. It’s nice to see that you’re as interested in the story as I am. 
> 
> The next chapter is borrowed from Madness’ song, “Our House”


	13. Our House: It’s our castle and our keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into the past. Harry, Luna, and Neville establish their own home, meet with a healer, and have a few Sunday dinners with the Potters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of PTSD & self-esteem/self-worth issues during the mind healing with the goblins. Please take care of yourselves as you read.

Harry thought that their lives in the past were coming together quite nicely, for the most part. They had arrived in mid-January, and it was now nearing the end of February. They’d moved into Pendragon Castle, which was huge, but Luna had recommended it from the list of properties the goblins had sent over, and neither Neville nor Harry wanted to disagree with her. The Potters hadn’t been impressed with the idea of three apparently fourteen year olds living on their own, but repeated reminders that they were in fact of age had helped. 

A cadre of no fewer than twenty house elves assisted with easing the elder Potters’ worries. Four were necessary for the greenhouses, another four took care of the larger estate, two worked exclusively in the kitchens, two did all the textile work of the castle, from creating and caring for their clothes to keeping the linen cupboards stocked and the tapestries in repair. Another group of four took care of the cleaning and maintenance of the building itself. Then there was a healer elf, a stonemason elf, an elf in charge of the potions, and finally a head elf, who took care of the organizing of their small army. 

The elves had been overjoyed to meet Neville, and took to Harry and Luna reasonably well. The transition hadn’t been seamless, but with mutual respect and (on the elves’ side) a great desire to be of service, the two groups were learning about each other and the castle they now lived in. The elves had long ago bonded to the castle as a way of preserving their lines and magic. Their grandparents’ grandparents’ grandparents had served the legends of Britain, a trust the current Pendragon elves took very seriously. Each of the human residents had a personal elf, with whom they bonded specifically. Neville had gotten along wonderfully with one of the greenhouse elves, Ransley, but also bonded to the head elf, Marlo, as a way to recognize the established order. He only called for Ransley when he was headed out to the gardens. Luna had bonded with the potions elf, Vorna, an elf of neither gender, who preferred they/them pronouns. Luna spent a lot of her time with Vorna or with Benshey, the healing elf. Harry got on well with both kitchen elves, and eventually they had come to a truce regarding his love of cooking. They took care of all the main meals, but never complained if he wanted to spend time cooking or baking. If he wanted to prepare a meal, he needed to provide them with a warning. He bonded with the younger of the two, Reilly, who also had a sarcastic dry wit that Harry really enjoyed. 

The first thing they learned was that their new home was truly huge. As a castle, its original intent was to offer protection and provision to the surrounding areas. The actual keep was one large tower, rising up over the surrounding land. The ground floor was dominated by a Great Hall, which was originally a meeting area and dining room, for the crowds who no doubt filled the castle. Above that, they found a smaller dining room, several meeting and training rooms, above that, bedrooms. As the tower rose, the areas were filled with storage, spare empty rooms they couldn’t discern a purpose for, and at the top, an open and empty owlery. 

The keep was surrounded by six smaller towers, which encompassed more than one courtyard, two colonnades branching out on either side of a massive gatehouse, kitchens, a smithy, an armoury, potions labs, a mason’s yard, and an observatory. There were stables full of animals, greenhouses full of plants both muggle and magical, and practice yards for horsemanship as well as weapons training. 

Thanks to the Potters’ hospitality, they did not move in immediately. They had first invited the head elf, the stonemason elf, both of the kitchen elves, and two of those who worked generally on the castle, to Potter manor, and asked Pobrey and Maddey to work with the Pendragon elves on ideas for modern comforts and furniture. Armed with this information, the Pendragon elves returned to the castle, and spent a week overhauling the family wing of the keep. Neville gave them instructions that he, Harry, and Luna would prefer to be close to one another and use smaller, less formal rooms— they also liked indoor plumbing. The three eventually settled in to a space above the Great Hall, which included two sitting rooms, a dining room, and bedroom suites for each. Neville’s was, naturally, the grandest. 

The day they moved into the castle, they invited Fleamont and Euphemia to join them for a special dinner and a chance to explore the castle for a bit. They nearly lost Fleamont to the potions lab, which included its own specialized library of potions texts and scrolls. Euphemia walked the gallery, exclaiming over the portraits, and occasionally stopping to chat. She and Igrainne spent several minutes discussing children who get themselves into dangerous situations. Harry loved hearing his grandmother’s laughter. The meal was served in the great hall, and Harry was thoroughly amused that neither of his grandparents had, so far, noticed the suspiciously round shape of the table. In fact, it wasn’t mentioned at all until the dessert was served. 

“Merlin!” Euphemia exclaimed, as her treacle tart was placed in front of her by an elf. 

“Yes, Grandmother?” Harry looked up from his favorite treat, smirking at Luna. 

“The table!” 

“Good, isn’t it?” Harry grinned at her. Her mouth was hanging open, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen such a thing before. Neville was snickering. Luna poked him in the side, but she too was smiling widely. 

“Harry!” Fleamont roared. “This, this, th-this is is is— This is the round table.” He finished in a hushed voice. 

“Yep!” Harry patted the stone top. It had been worn smooth over years and years of polishing, cleaning, and use. 

“We’re eating at the round table.” Fleamont repeated. “What a thing to say.” 

Harry smiled at his grandparents. Neville had about shouted Gringotts down when he discovered the table in the main Pendragon artifact vault. Harry and Ragnok, who had accompanied them to explore the vaults, had raced in to find Neville standing in front of the round table with the same gobsmacked expression as currently on Fleamont’s face. They had carefully moved it from the vault and onto a dais to one side of the Great Hall. He didn’t think he’d want to eat here every day; they all preferred the quiet family dining room upstairs, but for special occasions, or if they needed to impress people, this would definitely come in handy. 

Every day, they would floo into Gringotts for both their lessons and their mind healing appointments. Talon had asked that they each take the health scan again, for documentation purposes. Once she saw the list of their issues, she set aside a daily block of time for them. They spent an hour in group healing, and then met individually with her for thirty minutes, working with their tutors while waiting for one another. 

Their healing progressed at a significantly slower pace than their learning. Harry was nearly fluent in gobbledegook, with only a slight accent, as the human throat just wasn’t equipped to deal with certain sounds the goblins used. Luna was passable, but she knew far more words connected to healing, runes, and divination than Harry. Neville struggled a bit with the grammar, but was determined to learn the culture as well as the language. Nevertheless, their tutors had all agreed to sponsor their students to a more varied list of subjects. As goblin magic existed as a verbal magic, rather than a wand-based magic, this background was necessary for all further study. 

Their mind healing on the other hand had become more complicated. Harry knew that PTSD would not go away overnight, and he was working on identifying the triggers that caused him to break from reality. Those breaks frightened him more than they did the others. He worried that he would hurt someone during those episodes when he didn’t know what was real around him. He also knew that he had more than one source for his troubles. The war, certainly, but his childhood was also a source of trauma. Healer Talon had urged him to be patient with himself, but it was wearing on him all the same. 

He also struggled, every day, with the guilt of having dragged Neville and Luna away from their families. He knew they said it didn’t matter. He knew that they both counted him as family, as he did them, but it still sat heavily on his mind. He knew they would not be in this strange situation if it wasn’t for him. He would spend long hours after his lessons, sitting in the goblin library, surrounded by time travel books, looking for a way to send his siblings forward. They caught him at this, and it all came out in the next group healing session. 

Neville, who had become very direct with those he trusted, began, “Harry, why are you working on all that time research? Are you going to leave?” 

“No, I just was hoping you—“ He cut off, knowing he had said too much. 

Luna looked at him accusingly. It was a strange expression to see on her face. “You’re still trying to send us away, aren’t you Harry?” 

“I’m just sorry that you lost your family because of me.” Harry felt miserable. He needed them to understand. They deserved to be happy. 

Talon spoke up. “Harrison, why did you want to find a way to send Neville and Luna back? What was your motivation for all that research?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. What did she think his motivation was? “My motivation? I wanted to make their lives better. They’re my friends. They’re good. They deserve to have the best lives.”

“Don’t you?” Talon asked. Harry felt cornered. Of course he didn’t deserve that. He was the reason they were here in the first place— the reason they were trapped in the past, ripped away from their families. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer. 

“Harry Potter!” Neville exploded. He was furious, not with Harry, no. He was livid with every adult in his brother’s life who failed to teach him that he also deserved those things. “Harry Potter, you shut up about what we deserve unless you agree that you deserve it, too. You want to send us home because we should have some wonderful perfect life? How can we, without you? You want to send us back to our time to find our family? You. Are. My. Family. Harry, you. I never knew my parents. My grandmother never saw me, and spent my whole life trying to turn me into my father. My uncle hung me out of windows and dropped me off piers— into the Merlin forsaken ocean! And you want to send me back to them? So I can be happy?” Neville’s voice was reaching new heights in his indignation and frustration. He pulled at his hair as he paced, and then whirled back to face Harry, “Don’t you get it yet? I’m happy when I’m with you and Luna. I never had any kind of acceptance before I met you. No one appreciated me or helped me or was kind. Most people didn’t even see me. Including my so-called family. When I met you and Luna, and when we had the DA, that’s when I met my family. You, Harry Potter, cannot send me away to find my family, because it would be impossible. I cannot find my family anywhere but here with you two.”

Neville was breathing hard and yelling at Harry by the end of this. Harry was in tears, and without a word, grabbed Neville around the neck and held him tightly. He felt Neville’s arms around his waist, and they cried into each other’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Harry blubbered. “I didn’t mean it. You’re my family too. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to. But.” His brain wasn’t connecting the ideas very well, but Neville understood. 

“Of course not. But just remember. We’re family.” They broke apart, only to have Luna crash into the middle of their hug. 

“Harry, you will listen to me.” She looked deep into his eyes. “You don’t get to decide what makes my life happy. You need to stop doing that. If you found a way for me to return to an empty life in the future without you or Neville, I would not go. My happiness will be here, and we will find it together.” 

Talon smiled at the three of them. They were exactly what each other needed; her magic could sense it. “Harry, do you understand what they’re telling you?” 

Harry moved to sit on one of the soft couches. He was not alone. Luna and Neville pressed in on either side. “They love me.”

“Of course we do, Harry, but more than that. We think you deserve to be happy and have a good life too.” Luna looked frustrated that he just wasn’t getting it. 

“But—“ Harry began. 

Neville was shaking his head, “No buts, Harry. Luna’s right. You deserve the best life possible, and not because you’re the boy-who-lived. You deserve it because you, Harry Potter, are a good person.”

Harry felt warmth start to slowly seep into his center. He took a deep breath and leaned his head on top of Luna’s where it was pressed to his side. He wasn’t quite ready to agree with them, but he wouldn’t fight it at the moment. He knew without question that he had the best friends anybody could ever ask for. “Thanks,” was all he said. 

Luna looked at Talon. “Would you ask the Chieftain to join us?” 

“Certainly,” the healer nodded and called for Ragnok over the rune system. 

When he joined them a few moments later, Luna looked up. “We request a sibling bond, Chieftain. We wish to be bonded in blood and magic.”

Harry and Neville looked at each other in confusion. “Do you know what she’s talking about?” Harry whispered, and Neville shook his head. 

Ragnok nodded solemnly, “It will be prepared in the crystal room. You may make your way there.” He left immediately. 

Talon smiled. This might work. Luna surprised her. “Talon, will you witness this bond?” Witnessing the bond was reserved only to family, especially a sibling bond, as it was typically overseen by parents or elder relatives wishing to cement an adoption. She considered for a moment, and nodded. “Will you contact Griphook, as well?” Talon smiled. The account manager had definitely won the loyalty of these three. She suspected it was for some action in the future, and not only his attention to their accounts here. She pressed the rune, and summoned him. 

They made their way to the ritual room, and Luna explained. “This will make us siblings— true, genetic siblings, not just friends who call each other brother and sister. This creates the blood connection.”

Neville smiled, “Maybe, when we have a true genetic connection, you’ll realize that you are worth so very much to us, Harry. You don’t need to prove anything, accomplish anything, be anything except what and who you are. We love you. As is.” Harry blushed, but didn’t say anything.

As the room’s name suggested, crystals covered every surface. They appeared randomly placed in the walls, but the floor was inlaid with a specific pattern of interlacing circles. They were directed to one of the circles, outlined in rose quartz on the floor, and told to stand at equidistant points. The goblins handed each a knife. As the goblins began singing and their magic filled the air, Luna sliced open her left palm and bled onto the stones at her feet. She slowly walked the circle to the point Harry stood, her blood falling to outline their circle. He sliced his palm, pressed it to Luna’s, and began to walk toward Neville, his blood also falling to the quartz circle at his feet. Neville repeated Harry’s actions, and completed the circle by walking back to Luna as the goblin song reached its crescendo. As the magic fell away, they met in the center of their circle and grasped hands, their cuts healing immediately. They were, now and forever, the family that each of them had longed for. 

There weren’t many changes to any of them. Harry’s eyes had lightened, slightly, becoming almost aqua, rather than the vivid emerald he got from his mother. Luna’s pale blond hair darkened slightly to match Neville’s. Neville’s features sharpened, and some of the baby fat he had gained back fell away to match Harry’s and Luna’s more delicate frames. The true changes had happened at a microscopic level, as their blood, DNA, and magic would all know and reveal them as siblings. 

A few days after their bond formed, they met the Potters again, this time for a family Sunday lunch at Potter Manor. Pobrey ran at Harry as soon as he floo’d into the manor and hugged him around the knees. Harry smiled down at the enthusiastic elf, asking after Maddey and the manor as they made their way into the great room. 

“Hello, Grandmother!” Harry leaned over and kissed her cheek. 

“Harry dear.” Euphemia smiled up at him from her seat, and opened her arms for Luna’s hug. “Hello Luna, Neville, it’s good to see you, all of you.” 

Fleamont entered the room and strode over to shake hands and offer his own greetings. “How are you keeping? That castle is so big.”

“We’re better than ever, I think, and the castle is fine. We’re thinking of working on a map though.” Neville smiled. “We do have some news to share.” They had agreed to tell the Potters about the bonding. 

“We asked the goblins for a sibling bond.” Luna smiled at both the elder Potters. “We are now Harry’s true brother and sister.” 

“Wonderful.” Euphemia smiled at them. “Three grandchildren!” 

“Indeed! That is good news.” Fleamont hugged Luna closer and kissed the top of her head. “However, considering the official relationship between us, I think we all need to get used to hearing Uncle Fleamont and Aunt Euphemia.” 

“Oh, no, Aunt Effie, I think.” Euphemia preferred the shortened version, but she still only allowed Fleamont to call her Fifi. 

“What brought the sibling idea on?” Fleamont asked. “You already treated one another that way. It’s how we saw you.” 

“Something from our mind healing, actually,” Harry spoke up. “But it’s a good idea anyway, in case someone gets an idea to do an identity test on us. We’ll show up as the Mortis triplets in documents as well as in blood testing now.” 

Fleamont nodded, “Yes, very wise.” He led the way into the dining room for their lunch. They ate gathered around one end of the long table, rather than sitting formally at the head and foot. It was much easier to gossip and catch up that way. 

“So, how are the lessons progressing with the goblins? I must say, I hadn’t thought that would work out as well as it has.”

“Well, dear, they could hardly show up at Hogwarts, only two weeks into the winter term. Everything would be disrupted and off schedule.” Euphemia scolded, “this way, if they decide to go, it’ll be a clean start for them.” 

“Lessons seem to be going forward pretty well.” Neville replied. “Harry’s farther along in the language lessons, but we’re all managing to hold our own. We’ve all added mind arts training, too.” 

“Legilimency is easiest for Luna, I think, and Neville is far better than I am at occluding.” Harry shook his head ruefully. “I had a rough start with occlumency in our time, I know it’s important, but I was dreading it.” 

“That’s why you’re not doing so well, Harry.” Neville shook his head. “Besides, the best part about all that mediation is that it’s made our animagus forms much easier to work on. We should have them very soon.” 

“Are you planning on any other subjects?” Euphemia asked. 

“Oh yes, Aunt Effie!” Luna answered. “We’re all adding battle training and tactics, and muggle and magical weapons next week. The boys want to work on curse breaking. I prefer healing. Then, I think Harry wants to work on goblin crafting and the runic languages.” 

“I’ve had enough language with gobbledegook, so I was thinking of learning some magical theory or potions— it was my weakest subject in school.” 

Harry laughed, “Not just yours! Potions was not an easy class for most of us.” 

“I’m wanting to learn more about the goblins, and their creature allies. But perhaps the goblin forms of divination. I haven’t made up my mind yet,” Luna added. 

“That’s certainly a lot of learning!” Euphemia was astounded by the number of classes. 

“Yes, but our tutors know what we can handle. They recommended having several choices. I think we’ll be moving on to some of these subjects soon. And really, other than sorting out the castle, there’s not a lot to do.” Harry reassured his grandmother. 

“Fleamont, we might want to talk to Ironclaw about some options for James this summer.” Euphemia looked over to her husband. She had always thought more order and focus would be good for their son. Monty was a little too permissive for her taste. 

“Let’s mention it to the boys at Easter, they’re all coming round. We can see then if they’d like that. We’ll approach the goblins once we know.” Fleamont considered, “I doubt any goblin tutor would want to put up with an unwilling pupil.” 

Harry thought for a moment, considering what his father had been like at school. “You might mention to him, that once the initial course is complete in goblin language and culture, a tutor would be able to help him become an animagus.” Harry smiled at his grandparents, mischievously. “I believe that might inspire him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people are getting anxious for the Marauders to show up. And they will— eventually. But right now, they are just four rather immature little punks, and Harry & company have experienced things nobody else can understand. They need to recover a bit, and then they have a Dark Lord to fight, a war to plan, and a campaign against Dumbledore to set into motion. They’re just not up to stink pellets and dung bombs and such just yet. 
> 
> Next song title is from Billy Idol’s “White Wedding”


	14. There is nothing safe in this world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a boring, organizational chapter. Harry attempts something like a plan. Luna and Neville help with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about the dates: I did my best to keep to canon and invent in the grey areas where there is no absolute knowledge. The date of the Lestrange wedding is such an invention. There is no absolute knowledge of the date, but it’s generally thought to be much earlier than 1976. I fudged that a bit as it will come up later as a key plot event. There’s also disagreement about when exactly Regulus takes the Dark Mark. Some say he was fifteen, some say it was in 1975. If he was fifteen, then it did not happen in 1975. As there was some confusion, I did not list a specific date. Regulus will take the mark, but we aren’t sure when. In this chapter, Harry notes it as 1977, which from my understanding of the timeline is the latest possible time that he would have taken the mark, as we know he takes it before he leaves Hogwarts. 
> 
> TL;DR: I did my best with dates, but they may not be accurate.

Harry had commandeered one of the castle’s rooms, which he referred to as the war room. It was quite possibly the room’s original purpose as well. It was rectangular, and hidden up a small staircase he’d noticed behind the dais in the Great Hall. One wall was lined with medieval weapons, primarily swords, but Harry saw a lot of flails, glaives, pikes, lances, bardiches, and other things he could now identify, thanks to his lessons with the goblins. He was itching to give them a try, but left them on the wall, lest he endure another lecture from Marlo about respecting the past. The elves here served Neville and the Pendragon interests. He’d been able to charm the kitchen elves, but the rest of them were skeptical of him, and had no problem showing it. 

Another wall consisted of a tapestry showing the Battle of Badon Hill. The colors had faded from the ancient cloth, but Arthur, some of his key knights, and their horses could be made out, along with earthworks surrounding the hill, and the advancing Saxons. The top of the tapestry was woven with various heraldic symbols and shields. He was slowly learning some of the icons. He could recognize Gawain’s two headed eagle easily enough, and Lancelot’s was easy, just three red bars over a white background. And of course, Arthur’s golden dragons. That had been the first one he was required to learn by the fussy elves. 

One of the long walls held a detailed map of Britain. The place names were surprisingly recognizable, until he realized that magic was updating the map. It reminded him strongly of the Marauders Map, but instead of tiny dots representing the people (even just the magical ones would have overwhelmed the map), place names and geographical areas were outlined. He could even “zoom” the thing if he moved his wand over the area he wanted to see up close. He’d spent at least an hour exploring it, and learned of a few more magical areas. 

The remaining wall had also been covered in weapons, but Harry had negotiated with Marlo about their removal. As he cleared the wall, carefully, of the various weapons, Marlo packed and preserved them for transfer to Gringotts for safe keeping. In their place, he added two magical blackboards, and in their center, a magical bulletin board. He wanted space for a plan to take form, and he always did better with a visual, actual representation of his ideas. 

Harry’s idea had begun the moment he’d heard his grandfather explaining the purpose of the tunnel. He could—would— change things. He wanted to change almost everything about the future. He wanted his parents to live happy long lives, he wanted Neville’s parents to be healthy, and Luna’s mother to survive. He wanted all of them living in a world free from Voldemort’s brutality and Dumbeldore’s meddling. But that was all the big picture. He needed to work on the details. It would be better if he had a plan. He had finally learned the value of a good plan. 

The room held few pieces of furniture, and nothing in the way of decoration. As they had explored the castle, they had found suits of armor, beautiful vases waiting for flowers, statues showing the Roman influence over ancient Britain, and other artifacts or art pieces. They had even found a portrait of Arthur and Lancelot that he was fairly confident Guinevere had known nothing about. But this room held a minimum of furniture: a long table, a collection of spindly chairs, a huge desk in front of the wall of weapons, and several smaller writing tables or cupboards along one wall. Harry had purchased and moved in a giant, u-shaped leather sofa and positioned it in front of his blackboard wall, so there was someplace comfortable for the planning sessions he was hoping to have. 

Using his wand, he established a timeline near the top of the wall, from one corner to the other, starting with March 1975 and ending with December 1981. It was a good thing the wall was so long. He added the events he knew of. The attacks at Godric’s Hollow and Longbottom Manor were added at the very end. The Marauder’s graduation was added in June of 1978, and his parents’ wedding and grandparents’ deaths were added not long after that. With a smirk, he added his, Luna’s, and Neville’s births. 

Neville and Luna found him as he was adding Regulus Black accepting the dark mark in 1977 and his death in 1979. “Good idea,” Neville said as he sat on the sofa and looked up reading through the timeline. They sat together, remembering all the events they could from their reading, conversations, overheard bits of gossip. Luna flicked her wand at the wall, and the entire thing was color coded by events. 

Harry smiled at her, “Thanks Lunabelle, that makes it easier.” She smiled at the silly nickname. Harry looked up again at the timeline, thinking of the map, “I wonder,” he trailed off, then pointed his own wand at it. It was now magically dynamic, and by pointing their wands at specific areas of the timeline, they were able to enlarge the areas that needed more detail or which they wanted to see more clearly. 

“Nice Harry.” Neville nodded, and used his wand to direct the timeline to January of 1978. He added, “war with Riddle heats up.” He flipped it over to the summer of 1976 and added “Lestrange wedding.” 

“How do you know that, Neville?” Harry is confused, but grateful. Voldemort gave Bellatrix the cup as a wedding present to be kept safe, and they couldn’t move on that horcrux until they knew for sure where it was. 

Neville’s voice was colder than they’d ever heard it, “I know everything about them.” Harry could have kicked himself. Of course, Neville knew everything about his parents’ attackers. 

“We’re changing it, Nev. It won’t happen this time.” He reached over and grasped his brother’s shoulder. “It’ll be different.” Neville nodded at him, and turned back to the timeline. Harry did as well. The problem was that they just didn’t have enough information. Harry added ‘Snape hears prophecy’ to February 1979, and ‘Snape takes the dark mark’ to June 1978. 

“Argh. I wish we knew when people were going to die. I wish we knew when Riddle attacks.” Harry leaned over and threaded his hands through his hair again. 

“Well, so what if we don’t have dates? Who do we know dies? What do we know about them? Maybe we can still stop it.” Luna reached over to stop Harry from pulling out too much of his hair. 

Harry got a far away look in his eyes. He tried to recall the Order photo that MadEye had shown him with all the dead people, then he remembered that MadEye was not to be trusted either. Who had Griphook said was still alive? He flicked his wand at the chalkboard and two lists appeared: 

People to Distrust : Dumbledore, Moody, Vance, Fenwick, Pettigrew, Granger

People who Die : The Prewitt brothers, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Caradoc Dearborn, The Bones family 

Neville thought for a moment and then added another list; Harry and Luna adding names as they brainstormed.  Known Death Eaters : Malfoy, Lestranges, Crouch Jr., Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Rosier, Karkaroff, Dolohov, Rookwood, the Carrows, Yaxley, Travers, McNair, Wilkes. 

“Should we really keep Pettigrew and Granger on the list? I mean, technically, they haven’t really done anything yet.” Neville looked thoughtful. 

Harry felt a twinge of guilt, but held firm, “I want them there. They may not have done anything yet, but we know they are capable of betrayals.” He looked at Neville, and offered a reassurance, “it’s not a list of evil people, Nev. It’s just people we don’t trust.”

Neville sighed, “Well, then technically, shouldn’t everybody but us three, Fleamont and Effie, Ragnok and Talon be on the list?” 

Harry, who had been taking a sip of his rapidly cooling tea, snorted. “Probably.” He choked out. 

“This is a good start,” Luna added. 

Harry smiled grimly, it was a start. The three lists took up most of the space on the left blackboard. He turned to the other one, and began another list, this time of Riddle’s horcruxes and their locations. He listed them in the order, which he believed Riddle created them, and added the protections he knew of. Journal— ??? Malfoy house; Ring— Gaunt house, death curse; Locket— Cave, poison and inferi; Cup— Gringotts, eventually, flagrante and geminio curses, dragon, goblins; Diadem, Room of Lost Things; Nagini, possibility only. 

“That’s going to be difficult, Harry.” Neville looked carefully at the list. “How the hell did you manage it the first time?” 

Harry laughed, but there was no humor in it, “Potter luck.” His eyes fixing on the middle distance, and his hands clenching into fists. 

Neville winced, but kept them on track. He hated Harry’s PTSD breaks, but both he and Luna were learning some of the triggers for them, and how to keep Harry grounded through them. “Okay, well, one by one, and we won’t get overwhelmed. What’ll be the easiest to get hold of?” 

Harry broke out of his grim thoughts of the horcrux hunt. “The diadem is truly just sitting there in Hogwarts. There are no protections over it. It makes our decision about going to school easy, to be honest. At least one of us has to, and frankly, I’d prefer we stuck together, unless you don’t want to. We’ll go as transfers. We can keep an eye on Dumbledore and Pettigrew, not to mention the younger Death Eaters, and try to mellow out the ‘Marauders’ at the same time. Some of the shit they pulled, especially on Severus,” his voice trailed away, and he shook his head, thinking of the scene from Snape’s pensieve. 

“No Harry,” Luna’s voice came through his thoughts. “They’re not evil, just out of control. We’ll go to Hogwarts and show them how to be clever, funny, and kind at the same time. It’s not too late.” 

“Yeah, so Hogwarts next September” Neville flicked his wand and added that to their timeline. Harry smiled at his siblings. He’d be so lost without them. 

“Of the others, I think the Gaunt House and the Cave are going to be easier.” Harry spoke up. “There’s no guards. Once we figure out the defenses, we can just help ourselves.” 

Neville nodded. That made sense; they weren’t even sure where the cup or the journal was at the moment. “Okay, so, how do we counter a death curse?” 

Harry and Luna broke out into giggles. “Just like that, eh Nev? You are the ultimate Gryffindor.” Harry snickered. 

Neville blushed, “Well, we need a way to break the curse.” He mumbled and picked at his sleeve. 

Harry stopped laughing immediately. “Neville! That’s it. You’re brilliant.” 

Neville looked extremely confused. Luna looked expectantly at Harry, “Explain better, Harry.” 

“Break the curse! We need cursebreakers! I mean, we’re learning, sure, but the goblins have professionals. We just need to negotiate the fee for them to deal with the curses surrounding the ring, and leave them to it. I wonder if they’ll even remove the soul piece. I was thinking of practicing with fiendfyre to destroy them, but if we could transfer the souls into garbage or something, we could save the founders’ artifacts!” Harry grinned. “Neville, you’re brilliant. We’ll talk with Ragnok next time we’re at the bank.” 

Neville looked stunned, then cracked a smile and grinned over at Luna. “Yes, yes, I am. Good thing I’m here really.” He smiled and all three of them dissolved into giggles. 

Harry called for Reilly and asked for some snacks. The elf smiled at him and brought a selection of cheese and fruit, along with a fresh teapot. As he poured and prepared Luna’s tea, Harry mulled over the other horcruxes. 

“So, what’re we going to do about the others?” He asked. 

“I don’t think pissing off the goblins is a good idea this time, Harry.” Neville smirked at him, “I mean, riding off on a stolen dragon, shooting curses at the goblin warriors, and all was very cool. Ron was bragging on that for weeks after the battle. I’m just not sure I want to join you in that this time around.” 

Harry laughed, “Merlin, me neither. Can you see Ragnok’s face?” 

“We should just ask them.” Luna spoke up. 

“Huh?” Harry looked at her. “Asking them? That’ll work?” 

“I think so, Harry.” Luna smiled. “I’m certain that they don’t like horcruxes. Other than that, I’m not sure. But we know that they really don’t like wizarding arrogance, and cheating death is the ultimate in arrogance, don’t you think?” 

“When you put it that way, it makes sense.” Harry scratched his head. 

“I don’t think we should do it yet, though.” Neville spoke up. “The goblins will either tolerate the horcrux in their vault or not— I’m not doubting you Luna, it’s just that it was there for so long in the other timeline. If they tolerate it, they won’t like our interference in bank business. If they don’t tolerate it, they won’t allow Bellatrix to add it to her vault. The best case in that situation is that she hides it somewhere else, which we won’t know about it. The worst case is that Riddle finds out and starts hiding all of them in different spots or making more of them that we don’t know about.” 

“Merlin.” Harry rubbed the spot between his eyes. “What a nightmare.

“Okay,” he sat forward. “We see about a contract for the curses on the ring, but we wait till we know for sure that the cup is in the bank before we take a chance at speaking to the goblins about that.” He added the plans to the board using a sticking charm on some spare parchment bits. 

Harry sat back and looked at the board. He wondered if his life would have been less of a mess or more if he had bothered to plan things out in his first life. It felt both good to have his ideas organized and overwhelming to see how much there was yet to accomplish. He wasn’t sure how they would manage half of what they had to do. 

Neville looked apprehensively at Harry. He flicked his wand at the board, and next to the Horcrux list appeared a short list of the three hallows along with who currently controlled each and their location: Wand— Dumbledore, presumably Hogwarts; Ring— Riddle, Gaunt shack; Cloak— James, Hogwarts. Harry looked up, and heard Neville ask, “Are you going to unite them this time?” 

“Yes,” Harry sounded firm. “In the first place, they’re mine. I’m still the Master of Death and Lord Mors, so they will respond to me no matter who holds them. In the second place, Dumbeldore doesn’t deserve to touch them, and his obsession with them has already caused enough damage. Each one has the potential to be misused. They’re all dangerous.” He paused for a moment, “Oh, I suppose, I’ll leave the cloak with James for now. He’s having fun with it, and I don’t really need it. The danger lies in what Dumbledore might do to him in order to get it.

“The ring is going to be our first horcrux collection anyway, I’ll have control of that, and Dumbeldore will never put his hands on it.” Harry finished with grim satisfaction at denying Dumbledore of his most sought after treasure. “The wand will have to be last. I don’t want him to know I’m going after the hallows until he’s lost everything. It’ll be much easier to work that way.” 

Neville grinned at his brother, “Well, I may be a gryffindor, but you, Harry, are sounding very Slytherin at the moment.” 

Harry grinned, “Naturally. That was the hat’s first choice, actually.” He loved the shocked look on Neville’s face. Luna wasn’t surprised at all, but he suspected that’s because it wasn’t news to her. “I’m going to have to argue it again, I think. I have nothing against Slytherin this time, but it’d draw too much attention from Dumbeldore and my potential housemates.”

“Gryffindor then?” Neville asked, seeing Luna’s mysterious smile. 

“Not sure.” Harry shrugged. “I’ll let the hat pick that much, I guess. I can’t see you anywhere other than Gryffindor, and it might be good to spread out into other houses. Luna? Any ideas?” 

“Lots, Harry.” She smiled at him, but didn’t say any more. The boys grinned. She’d tell them if they needed to know. All three of them knew that house affiliation would not divide them. Quite the contrary, the potential for uniting the houses would only give them power against Dumbledore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Next chapter includes Marauders, I know you’ve been waiting. 
> 
> Next chapter title comes from Simon & Garfunkel’s “At the Zoo”


	15. A fine and fancy ramble to the zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marauders! It’s the spring holidays of the boys’ fourth year, and the elder Potters invited all four of them home in order for James to meet his new cousins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swiped the animagus descriptions from spiritanimal.info if anybody wants to check me on that. I thought the characteristics were rather appropriate.

By late-March, Harry, Luna and Neville had fallen into a routine that worked quite well for them. After breakfast, they floo’d to the bank for their mind-healing appointment with Talon. They were hoping that over the summer these meetings would slow down to once or twice a week, but for the moment, Harry especially needed to visit every day. They spent the rest of the morning in lessons or training with the goblin warriors. 

When they first began training, the goblins treated them with a certain amount of suspicion. They held the lowest three ranks of any group they sparred with, but slowly began gaining respect as no matter how often they were put on their backs, they stood back up and acknowledged the hit. They also learned quickly, which caused the goblins to look more favorably on them. They weren’t proud either, and often joined the goblins for lunch during the midday break. 

Once their lessons were over for the day, they’d return to the castle, and either continue exploring, or add to the plans in the war room. Neville spent long hours in the library, once he found it. He felt the pressure of his title keenly, and was determined to learn all he could from the historical accounts of Arthur and his knights. He had a history of the Wizengamot as well, and although not enjoyable reading, he plowed through it, wondering at the stupidity of previous ministers. But, then, he’d think of Fudge and remember that future ministers weren’t so bright either. 

They also explored the map in the war room. Harry had discovered several new (to him, at least) magical areas, and they were all keen to go exploring. As the Emrys Lord, and heir to Merlin’s power, Stonehenge now belonged to him. He had spent a day visiting it and been thoroughly unimpressed with all the muggles making themselves at home there. They had disrespected the site for centuries and now thought to preserve it by putting up crowd barriers and other fences. He gave his tour guide the slip and pressed his hand to one of the stones. It was strange that he felt no magic coming from it, though. He wandered a bit more, and as he passed between two of the standing stones, he discovered the true Stonehenge hidden behind the muggle tourist site. It was flooded with power and charged his magic to the point he was crackling with it.

Luna’s accounts listed the mythical forest of Brocilinde as belonging to her. They scanned the map, but couldn’t discover the location until Harry asked it to reveal original place names. They found that Brocilinde, the lake, Avalon, Tintagel Castle, Glastonbury Abbey, and other legendary places had been renamed, forgotten, and built over. They had laughed when they discovered that the mystical forest and lake of legends were actually the Forbidden Forest and Black Lake that they had spent so much time in during their previous life. That it now belonged to Luna was only to the good, as far as they were concerned. It was pathetic how much of their magical history had been rewritten, and all three of them were determined to bring their heritage back into the modern world.

They often spent their evenings visiting with the Potters, either in the castle or at the manor, and had grown quite close. Harry loved it. He grew especially close to his grandmother. They’d sit close to the fire after dinner, and he’d listen to her tell stories of her childhood, growing up with her foster aunt, meeting “Monty” and falling in love. He enjoyed the stories of James’ childhood adventures best. His father had been a handful, as a child. He had once managed to climb onto the roof of the manor through one of the attic windows, and she couldn’t find him for hours. He’d fallen asleep holding a child’s broom, dreaming of quidditch. 

So it wasn’t unusual to see the Potter’s owl arrive at breakfast one morning, with an invitation to dinner. What was unexpected was the news that James, and a few of his good school friends, would be there as well. It was the Easter holidays at school, and although they didn’t usually come home, the Potters had felt it was a good time for James to meet his “cousins.” Harry wasn’t sure at all how he felt about dinner with his father, godfather, former professor, and the betrayer of his parents.

“Um,” he began eloquently. “We uh, we’ve been invited to dinner.” 

“Oh that’s nice,” Neville broke in without looking up from the Daily Prophet, “I’d wanted to ask Aunt Effie about transplanting some bouncing bulbs to our greenhouse.”

“Harry?” Luna sent a piercing look at her brother. “What’s the problem?”

Neville looked up immediately to see Harry putting the letter down. His face was pale, but he was still with them. “James and his friends are home for the spring holidays. Effie wants us to meet them.” 

Neville sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure at all how good an idea that was. “When?” 

“Tonight. She said she didn’t want to give us the time to chicken out and that it would all work out fine.” Harry tried to smile, but it was more grimace than anything. 

“It will be.” Luna said with finality. “Harry, you’ve been planning on attending Hogwarts in September— you’ll be seeing them then. And Neville will see his parents. My father has already left, and my mother is in her final year now, but I may see them at some point. We will see plenty of people we know. This is a start, and we will see them in the comfort of the manor with your wonderful grandparents there to prevent any disasters. It will be fine, Harry. I promise.” 

Luna wouldn’t promise if it wasn’t true. Harry took a deep breath. “Well, then, I guess it's something to look forward to.” He tried to put a good face on it. Luna was right, as usual. He’d be seeing them sooner or later, and winding himself up about it wouldn’t help anything. 

Luna smiled at him, and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll see.”

They spent the rest of their day at the bank as usual. Harry was grateful he got to spend some time talking about his father with Talon. The physical training also helped him to burn away the nerves. He was finally making some progress with hand to hand dueling and defense. His skinny fourteen-year-old body was building up some muscle mass, and he was finally able to last longer than five minutes against a goblin sparring partner. Dueling with magic was another issue. Goblin law prohibited wand use in any area beyond the lobby, so they’d been working on wandless magic. Harry’s power levels were such that a wand was actually holding him back. He needed a larger repertoire of spells, but the power he could now put behind the ones he did know was impressive. 

After a quick meeting with Griphook, to discuss investments in the muggle world, they left the bank and returned to the castle to prepare for dinner at the manor. Thanks to his distraction all day, Harry was slightly more covered in bruise paste and muscle relaxant than he normally would have been, but there was nothing to be done about it. He dressed in black trousers, a charcoal button down, and a deep blood red jumper. The Pendragon seamstress elves had outdone themselves with two lords and a lady to outfit, and their wardrobes were bursting with quality clothing. Harry did miss his leather jacket, and thought about finding another one. He met Neville, who looked much the same as him, but wore a gold colored button down and charcoal cardigan, and they waited for Luna to join them at the floo. She appeared looking nice in a pale blue dress with silver stockings.

Neville started laughing. “We’re wearing our house colors. I guess it’s time to go.” They grinned at each other and stepped through the floo. 

Harry still hadn’t mastered floos, and landed in a heap, looking up into the smirking face of his godfather. “How nice! Most people fall for me at first glance, but you managed to outdo them all.” Sirius reached a hand down to help Harry to his feet. “Sirius Black, Gryffindor extraordinaire, and best body of the fourth year boys’ dormitory!” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well, it’s not Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award, but I suppose you have to start somewhere.” He mumbled, then spoke up, “Harrison Mortis.” They shook hands, and Harry turned back to the fireplace, “My brother, Neville, and sister Luna.” 

Sirius shook with Neville, and offered his arm to Luna. “Allow me to show you the way, Beautiful.” Harry and Neville shared a look, but knew that Luna could wipe the floor with Sirius if she wanted to. 

Luna gave Sirius a long, uncomfortable look, then took his arm. “Thank you, Stubby.” 

Sirius stumbled. “My name is Sirius.” 

Luna gave him a serene smile, “Whatever you like”

Shooting a grin at Neville, Harry snorted quietly, and they followed Luna and “Stubby” into the great room.

Aunt Effie greeted them all with hugs, and held on to Harry a little longer. He smiled at her, but whispered, “I’m okay, grandmother.” She patted his shoulder and pushed him over to his grandfather. They shook hands and soon Harry, Luna, and Neville were introduced to James, Remus, and Peter. 

The “marauders” were looking particularly gleeful, and Harry determined to check everything he touched before using or tasting it. He sent a cautious glance at his grandfather, who smiled benignly back. Uh huh. Harry wondered if this was how the mouse felt when confronted with free cheese. 

As they went into the dining room, Fleamont asked Neville, whom he was walking with, about the lessons with the goblins. “When we heard from you last time, you’d figured out your animagus forms and were looking forward to battle tactics.” Fleamont winked over his shoulder at Harry. Ah, so, he wasn’t as oblivious as it seemed. He just preferred to avoid direct discipline. Well, considering what he knew of his father’s portrait, it made sense. 

“Well, yes, sir. We’ve all achieved our mundane forms and are registered in the ministry now. Harry and I are working on battle tactics. Harry’s also studying Runes, and Luna’s working on healing. Goblin healing appears to be different than the wizarding style, and it’s not easy.” Neville smiled at his Uncle. 

“I lasted five minutes today!” Harry said, proudly. He was moving a little easier after all the bruise paste, but it was well worth it. 

“That’s a huge accomplishment! Congratulations!” Fleamont ignored the whispers between James, Sirius, and Peter going on behind him. 

Remus was confused, “Five minutes doing what?” 

“Oh!” Harry turned to him as they all took seats, “I’m working on hand to hand in addition to weapons and magical dueling. The goblin warriors are rough on beginners, but it’s good training. I’ve been working up to five minutes on my feet for a while now.” Harry grinned. 

“Pfft.” Peter scoffed. “Five minutes? That’s not very long.” 

Harry looked at him and tried very hard to remember that the rat he saw hadn’t yet betrayed anybody. He took a breath. “In a fight with a goblin, five minutes is an eternity.” 

Remus nodded. “They’re the best. And you’re doing weapons training too?” 

Harry nodded, his mouth full of soup. He swallowed, and turned to the elf door, he knew was next to the sideboard. “Excellent soup, Pobrey. Send me the recipe, please!” 

He heard a giggle and a high pitched voice, “Yes, Mister Harrison. But you hasn’t got the herbs at Pendragon.”

“Then, send the herbs too, please.” 

Effie smiled. She was quite proud that her grandson had a good relationship with all manner of creatures and people. “After dinner, you will show us your animagus forms?” 

“If you wish, Aunt Effie.” Luna smiled. “How is the garden?” 

Dinner conversation flowed easily, with the adults checking in on all their charges. James was having troubles in herbology and potions. Sirius had a few too many detentions. Peter struggled in most of his lessons, except Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy, but Remus had been helping him study more. 

After the meal, which Harry was quick to thank the elves for, they recommended moving out to the garden. They could change indoors, of course, but Neville’s form preferred more space, and Luna’s would want to stretch her wings. 

Sirius elbowed James and hissed, “Wings! Jamie, she can fly! I hope I can fly. That’ll be so cool.” 

James looked at his cousins with envy. “How’d they do it so young, though? It’s supposed to be impossible.” 

“Goblin magic, maybe?” Sirius grinned. “I’m gonna see about lessons over the summer with them. Maybe I’ll have a form by September!” 

James grinned. “My dad already wants to send me to them. I think I’m gonna agree.” 

They followed the rest of the family out to the sea cliff side of the estate, and watched as first Luna stretched her arms out over her head. Her body shrunk rapidly, and her hair seemed to flow into bright white feathers. Her eyes became even wider than normal, and her legs shrunk. The snowy owl flapped its wings a few times, experimentally, then took off. They all watched as she made a wide circle out over the sea, and then came back to land on Remus’ shoulder. He turned and smiled at her. 

Neville spoke quietly, “We call her Strix when she’s in this form. It’s a silly nickname, but she likes it.” 

“What’s it mean?” Remus asked, stroking her feathers. 

“Well,” Neville hedged, looking uncomfortable. The Luna-Owl clicked her beak in amusement. 

Harry took pity on him, “It’s not very nice, to be honest. A strix is a demon owl woman from ancient myth. They’re supposed to take care of abused children, whisking them away from bad homes before they die, and raising the kids themselves. Their shriek can kill, so in that way, they’re similar to the banshee of Ireland, but they originate from the Mediterranean areas. They lived in Hades, and got on well with serpents. Luna actually picked the name herself. I think she likes some of the symbolism.” Harry shook his head fondly, smiling at the owl sitting on Remus’ shoulder. 

“She’s lovely.” Fleamont spoke from nearby. “And well done Luna! The owl is a remarkable companion in life. All animagus forms and patronus manifestations have a meaning you know. Owls are likely to have the ability to see what’s usually hidden to most, the true reality, beyond illusion and deceit. The owl also offers inspiration and guidance necessary to deeply explore the unknown and the hidden magics of life. I believe Strix is perfectly suited to you.”

Strix hopped awkwardly over to Fleamont, sat on his head and began preening his hair. “Oh dear,” Effie said, suppressing a smile. She quietly called to Maddey to bring a camera. That photo was going to be worth rather a lot in the future. 

Luna again took off and made a circle or two overhead before neatly transforming just as she landed in front of the group. “Sorry about your hair, sir. The instincts are still a bit tricky.” 

Fleamont chuckled. “It’s fine dear. I doubt you made it any worse.” 

“Nev? You want to have a go?” Harry nudged his brother forward. 

Neville looked around. “Don’t freak out, please. I won’t hurt anybody.” He shifted, falling onto all fours, as golden fur rippled over his body. His face contorted as he grew an impressive set of fangs, and his rear felt distinctly odd as a long tail stretched from his tailbone. His feet spread out and claws emerged, and the puma gave a loud yowl, and then sat primly at his brother’s feet. 

Harry smiled, “Meet Felix.” 

“Felix the Cat?” Sirius grinned. “Really?”

Harry widened his eyes at Sirius, “He likes the name.” 

“It’s a good one.” Harry hadn’t told Neville about the muggle comic, and had suggested the name as a joke, but Neville’s puma had latched on to it, and now wouldn’t answer to anything else. Harry was enjoying the joke a little too much to tell Neville yet, and he didn’t need Sirius to spill the beans. He wondered how his pure blood future godfather knew about it. His parents wouldn’t tolerate it, that was for sure. 

Harry looked down at the large cat, “Are you just going to sit there?” The cat rolled its eyes up to Harry in clear exasperation. “I don’t know. Do cat things. Climb a tree, sit in a box, cough up a fur ball.” Neville yawned and lay down. “Hopeless.” He shook his head.

Effie conjured a ball of string and rolled it in front of Neville, whose ears perked up, and tail swished. Harry grinned and kicked the string, and the game was on. Neville stalked and batted and pounced on the ball, and eventually he tangled himself up completely. Effie whispered, “It’s been soaked in some catnip. He’ll change back completely high.” Harry fell on his arse, he was laughing so hard. The marauders weren’t much better. Neville eventually got around to turning human again, still covered in string, and grinning at all of them. 

“Heya Nev. How’re you feeling?” Harry looked curiously at his brother. He wasn’t sure what an intoxicated Neville would be like. 

“Harry!” Neville looked up in adoration at Harry. He smiled. “Your eyes are really big.” 

“Oh yeah? All the better to see you with. You doing okay?” 

“I’m really good.” Neville nodded enthusiastically. 

Harry turned to his grandmother, “this isn’t going to happen when he’s around catnip as a human, is it?” 

“Oh no dear, and the effect won’t last long.” She smiled. 

Harry hoisted Neville up onto his feet. “You’ll be all right soon, Nev.” He kept an arm around his waist just in case, through. Neville lay his head down on Harry’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” Harry looked down at Neville’s goofy smile. “And Luna. I love her too. And Ron and Ginny and Fred and George. I love them so much! When will we see them?” 

Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He settled for a snort, and patted Neville on the back. “Soon, Nev.” He looked over to Luna. 

“I‘ll take him inside while you show off Bandit. Some water on his face might help.” They grinned at each other. 

Harry smirked at the others. His form began shrinking dramatically. He also grew a tail and small claws, but most of his changes were in the color of his new fur. He slipped around legs and slunk behind the marauders, before jumping on Sirius head, and wrapping a ring-striped tail around his neck. 

Sirius yelped and spluttered, as he tried to get the raccoon off his head. “What even are you?” He hollered. 

Fleamont again spoke up, “Bandit, is a raccoon. Very well done, Harrison. Raccoons are known for their adaptability, and as problem solvers who leave no stone unturned in their quest for truth and solutions. As they remain calm under pressure, these animals also have an insatiable curiosity about the world around them while possessing the wherewithal to know to look before they leap.”

“Hmm,” Effie looked carefully at her grandson, now clinging to Sirius’ shirt with his hind paws while batting at James’ hair with his front paws. “From what you’ve told us about some of your adventures, Harrison, Bandit seems to be a good match. I do hope you employ that wherewithal, more often, though.”

Bandit turned and looked carefully at his grandmother, gauging the distance from Sirius’ shoulder to her arms, and leaped. She caught him, laughed and put him on the ground. He quickly changed back, and grinned at her. “I did look.” She chuckled lightly. 

As the family returned to the house, a chagrined and slightly damp Neville stood with Luna near the patio doors. “All better?” James asked, thumping Neville on the shoulder. 

“My apologies.” Neville grinned.

“Nonsense,” Effie replied. “If anyone should be sorry, it is I. And I am. It was wrong of me to put temptation in your path. But you did make a very cute kitty.” 

“Sir,” Peter spoke up, “What’s the symbolism of Neville’s puma? Do you know?” 

“I do,” Fleamont replied. “I knew the triplets were working on it, so I did some research. The puma symbolizes power, leadership, and strength. The animal is known for the strength of their convictions, awareness and steadfast responsibility. The cougar indicates a dependable and loyal person.”

“Perfect.” Luna said, happily. 

The Potters and their guests settled into the great room, and began a conversation about animagi and whether Fleamont or Effie had a form. While Fleamont was explaining some of his reading, James, Sirius and Peter drew Harry aside. 

“We’re working on it, too.” James whispered. “But you have to keep it quiet. We don’t want Remus or my parents knowing. Not yet, anyway.” 

“Okay, but why? Remus doesn’t want an animagus form?” Harry played dumb, wondering if they had an excuse. 

“Oh, he’s more interested in charms really.” Sirius dismissed. It was rather smooth, but Harry knew him too well. 

“Too bad. It would have been fun if all of you had a form. The three of us love running wild together.”

James and Sirius shared a look of pure anticipation. Peter seemed a little slower to understand the possibilities, and didn’t share the almost-telepathy the other two seemed to have with one another. It really was like being confronted with the Weasley twins, Harry realized. 

“Well, I think the goblins are the best option, if you want to find your forms. The meditation is difficult at first, but eventually it’s worth it. Good for other things, too. Occlumency, Legillimecy, and the mind healing we’ve been doing. It really does help. But anyway, if you want a form quickly, they’re your best bet. We’re still working on our magical forms.” 

James and Sirius shared another of those communicative looks, “Magical forms?” 

Sirius focused intently on Harrison. His eyes really were very nice, he thought, inconsequentially. “What’s that mean?” 

“Oh,” Harry looked at the three of them. They didn’t know? How did Sirius get his form? “Well,” he began, “all wizards and witches have a magical and a mundane form. Most people get their mundane form first, but it doesn’t always happen like that. My mundane form is Bandit, as you saw. I’m not one hundred percent sure of my magical form, yet, but I know it’s got wings.” 

Sirius looked like Christmas and his birthday had arrived early. “A magical and a mundane form? We can have two?” He turned to James, “Do you think your father knows about this too?” 

“Dad,” James called. “Did you know we have two forms?” 

Fleamont looked at his son, slightly annoyed at the interruption, but not showing it. “Yes, I did. All wizards have a magical and a mundane form. For some, with creature blood, like Veela or Werewolves, their creature form is their magical form, but they’ll have a mundane form as well.” 

Peter turned to Neville, “Do you know your magical form yet? Harrison told us he has wings.” 

Neville chuckled, “Yeah, he was pretty excited about that. He loves to fly. I’m not sure. I think I’ve got big teeth, but that could be my puma, too. For most wizards, the second form comes easier than the first, but for me, it’s proving to be very difficult. I’m not sure why.” He shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been afraid of working for what he got. He might be a Gryffindor, but he also believed that all people had all the house traits, just in different amounts. 

“Luna?” Remus asked the girl sitting next to him, “Do you know your magical form?” 

“Yes,” She smiled at him, and it felt like a ray of pure sunshine hit him. “But she’s far too dangerous for company. I’m very careful about bringing her out.”

“I see,” he swallowed nervously. 

Luna patted his arm. “Dangerous creatures aren’t anything to be afraid of. Knowledge and understanding are very important. I may be dangerous in my Sphinx form,” she smiled, “but I am not always in that form.” 

He wondered at what she was saying. It felt important, but he couldn’t grasp it. He would like to see about getting an animagus form. He knew his friends were working on it, but didn’t tell him. They probably didn’t want him to feel bad that he couldn’t have a form too. But now, maybe they would work on it together.

Luna looked at the little smile on Remus’ face. She liked him. She had liked him in her first life when he was a teacher. He was fair and knowledgeable and kind. Yes, she would be happy in this new life. She knew it. 

As they were leaving that evening, the marauders full of whispered plans for animagus lessons, and Harry completely unsure why they were insisting on whispers, Luna stepped closer to Remus. She touched his arm, and he stepped away from his friends. “My name is Luna Claire.” she smiled at him. “It means moonlight, did you know?” She grinned, “but there’s nothing to fear.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and then stepped into the floo. 

Harry had seen the exchange, and felt obligated to shoot Remus a bit of stinkeye. He may have been a good professor, and mild mannered, and a kind role model. But if he thought he could date Luna without at least one shovel talk, Harry would set him straight in a hurry. 

Harry turned and hugged his grandparents, and then hopped into the floo himself. It had been an interesting evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is, the first meeting of the Marauders and the Time travelers. I hope it meets with approval. The relationships will eventually happen, but none of them are ready to fall in love at first sight yet. Remember that the Marauders are only just turned 15, and the Travelers are over 18. James and Sirius, especially need to do some growing up before Harry will see them as anything other than annoying. 
> 
> If you’re interested, the next chapter is from Whitney Houston, “How Will I Know?”


	16. I’m asking you what you know about these things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry negotiates with the goblins and then shows off a bit. He’s got a magical animagus now as well as Bandit.

Harry nursed a dislocated shoulder and grumbled as he made his way through the halls of Gringotts. Goblins did not believe in ‘going easy’ during training, but he’d seen a healer and been sent to the showers, so it could’ve been worse, he supposed. He now had a meeting with Griphook, to negotiate the curse-breaking work on the Gaunt house. It still felt like a risk. If Riddle caught even the slightest hint of what they were doing, the war might never end. 

He knocked on Griphook’s door, and waited till he was ushered in. He bowed and offered the traditional greetings in gobbledegook. Griphook replied, and they both sat, “How may I be of assistance to you, Young Lord? Do you wish this meeting in English?” 

Harry grinned and replied in gobbledegook, “Thanks Griphook, but I could use more practice. I wanted to ask you about curse breakers.” 

“Your tutor is not keeping up with your educational needs?” Griphook looked concerned. 

Harry shook his head, “Nothing like that, honestly. Urkhelm is great. We’re starting arithmancy next week, and I’ve got my magical animagus form down.” Harry grinned, “I’m a thunderbird! Brilliant, isn’t it?” He slipped into English slang for a moment.

“Especially if you should bring lightning” Griphook smirked at the young wizard in front of him. A thunderbird. He shook his head. He really should stop being surprised at this wizard’s power or skill, but it seemed he was always underestimating Harrison Mortis and his siblings. 

“Very clever.” Harry rolled his eyes. Goblin humor needed work. “I’m just interested. What are the requirements for being a Gringotts curse breaker?” Harry knew that goblins preferred to get to the point quickly, but he also felt nervous about approaching anyone about the curses surrounding one of the Dark Lord’s horcruxes. It was a secret for a reason. 

“Well, we expect a goblin level mastery in runes, arithmancy, charms, and history.” Griphook began, “But, as Hogwarts does not offer sufficient training to these levels in these subjects, we only accept human employees on an apprenticeship basis.”

Harry nodded. “So they earn high level N.E.W.T.s, I presume, and then work on those four subjects under goblin masters?” 

“Precisely. As we have with you and your siblings, we assign our human employees a tutor, who begins with essential language and culture lessons, and then takes them through the four masteries on an individualized plan.” Griphook looked closely at Harrison. “Are you considering a career with Gringotts?” 

Harry shook his head, “No, not exactly. They take confidentiality oaths? Keep the bank’s business private?”

“Naturally.” Griphook reached the end of his patience. “What is this about Harrison?” 

“Sorry,” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about being so indirect. I’m not talking about lessons. I want to hire some curse breakers. I was wondering if Gringotts contracts them out, and at what rate?” 

Finally! Griphook nodded his understanding, “Gringotts rarely contracts out our curse breakers, and only after negotiating for the fee and any potentially recovered treasure.”

Harry nodded. He’d expected as much, but he wondered now how much of his secret would need to be revealed. It wasn’t like he had much choice, though. He’d seen Dumbledore’s hand, and wasn’t about to get near the ring himself nor allow Neville or Luna to do it either. He took a deep breath, “I would like to enter negotiations to form a contract with Gringotts curse breakers.” 

“Very well.” Griphook reached for a specific piece of parchment. 

Harry paused and looked at the parchment. “Before we begin, I need the assurances of the goblin nation that this business will remain utterly confidential. I’m sorry. I consider you a friend, and I trust you, but this is a big secret.” 

Griphook gave Harry a long and measuring look. “You wish the assurances of the goblin nation.” Harry swallowed his nerves and nodded. “We should speak with Ragnok.” 

“If you think that is best.” Harry nodded. Griphook pressed a rune and requested a meeting on behalf of his client. Ragnok would know who needed him— Griphook only managed three estates, and usually dealt with Harry, rather than Neville or Luna. 

Ragnok entered the room, and both Harry and Griphook stood and raised their fists to their chests in salute. Ragnok waved them back to their seats, and turned to Harry. “Lord Mors, what can Gringotts do for you?” 

“Chieftain, I have business with Gringotts, which must remain absolutely confidential. I would prefer at this point to disclose it only to yourself and Griphook. The slightest hint of this information, or injudicious action in response to it may be catastrophic.” 

Ragnok nodded. “This is clearly regarding more than your, unconventional arrival here?” 

Harry nodded. “It is, and it isn’t. The actions I wish to take are based on knowledge I have because of that arrival, but they are unconnected otherwise.” 

“Very well, Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt, you have the bound word of Chieftain Ragnok II of Gringotts British Division, that the discussion we have on this day will never be alluded to again without your express approval.” 

“Thank you, Chieftain.” Harry could now get down to business without further dithering. “I wish to negotiate for the removal of several curses placed upon property connected to the Gaunt Lordship.” 

Griphook turned again to his parchment. “What knowledge do you have of the curses placed?”

Harry thought back. “I’m not sure of the actual curse. If the scene I witnessed was the truth, the effect would have been death, taking place within hours of the curse taking effect, but which was stopped by the use of an unknown-to-me potion. The potion was thick and golden in hue. It may have been used in conjunction with spells, I’m not sure, and it contained the curse in the arm. The person eventually lived for at least two years more, but may have received different treatment during that time. There may be other curses or alarm spells, which must under no circumstances be triggered. 

“I wish to recover the cursed item, and the person who lay the curses originally must never be alerted to my possession of the item.” Harry finished up. He had learned quickly to be as precise and specific as possible with speaking with the goblins, but undoubtedly they would have further questions. 

“You said the scene you witnessed may not have been the truth.” Ragnok narrowed his eyes. Without knowledge, it would be difficult at best to break unknown curses. 

“The man whom I saw cursed has lied to me, planted false memories, and obliviated me of the truth. His entire life has been crafted through falsehood. It’s possible that this too was a lie, although I saw the cursed arm first hand.” Harry shrugged. He honestly didn’t know what to believe from Dumbledore at all. 

Ragnok nodded. “How sure are you of the item’s location?” Harry remembered seeing Voldemort tearing up the floorboards of the Gaunt Shack in his desperation to locate his horcruxes. 

“I am reasonably confident. I have a secondary source for the information.” 

Griphook was writing furiously on his parchment, taking notes. “Is it possible that there may be curses other than the death curse you have described?” 

“It’s likely.” Harry nodded. “I don’t imagine the original owner of the item wanted anyone removing it.” 

“What is the item to be recovered?” Griphook looked curiously up at Harry. 

Harry leaned his elbows on his knees. “A ring. The last of the Gaunt family believed it to be the Peverell lordship ring. It did belong to Cadmus Peverell, but it was not the lordship ring, which my grandfather now wears. The ring itself is an ugly clumsy thing of gold, but it is set with a black stone bearing this mark.” Harry motioned for Griphook’s parchment, and quickly drew out the triangle-circle-line mark of the Deathly Hallows. 

Griphook looked curiously at the mark, but Ragnok’s eyes widened. “That mark?” He asked, and Harry nodded.

“Chieftain Ragnok II of Gringotts British Division, I give you the solemn vow of Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt, that this ring is my rightful property.” Harry waited as magic flared, verifying the vow. “It belongs to me as Lord Gaunt and as Lord Mors. It was cursed and hidden, and its hiding place has been further cursed. I wish to contract with Gringotts to retrieve it and cleanse it of harmful magic.” 

“Very well, Lord Mors.” Ragnok smiled widely at Harry. “Gringotts accepts, and all that remains is to negotiate the fee and write the contract. Griphook is entrusted with this task on behalf of the nation.” And with that, Ragnok left the room. 

Harry turned back to Griphook, and grimaced, “Sorry Griphook. I trust you, I do. It’s just better to have absolute secrecy on this.”

“Understood, Harrison. Stop apologizing.” Griphook shook his head. Humans. “Where is the cursed item?”

“In a shack belonging to the Gaunt estate, located outside of the village of Little Hangleton.” 

“Goslok, the head of the cursebreakers will need to investigate the location, and create a report, estimating the personnel and time required.” Griphook continued, “The report is the initial step in the curse breaking, and involves a standard fee.” A goblin standard fee, Harry had learned was 250 galleons. There was no negotiation over a standard fee, regardless of the time involved, work load, or strenuous nature of the work. If something was assessed at a standard fee, it was either paid or not. 

Harry nodded, “Remove it from the main Gaunt coin vault, if you will.” The Gaunt vaults were not in any state of health when Harry gained control of them, but he had transferred a large number of galleons over, and used them to invest in both muggle and magical companies, and the vaults were regaining their solvency quickly. 

Griphook nodded, and wrote on his parchment again. “Very well, Harrison. Goslok will complete the review and report entirely on his own, to preserve the secrecy of your project. We will contact you when Goslok completes the investigation, and the report is ready for review, at that point, we will negotiate for the removal of the curses.” 

“Excellent, Griphook, thank you.” Harry smiled. He stood and bowed to his account manager before leaving. 

When he arrived back at the castle, he collapsed onto the couch in the war room, and looked up at his lists. “I never want to negotiate with goblins again. It’s exhausting.” He complained to Luna. 

“What did Griphook say?” She asked.

Harry sighed and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “At first, he wanted to know if I was planning on becoming a curse breaker. I think I rather tried his patience, and he finally called Ragnok in. We have the goblins’ promise of secrecy, at least. And a goblin called Goslok, who is the head curse breaker is going to investigate and report back. Hopefully, soon. Now that we’ve started, I want the thing over as soon as possible.”

Luna laughed. “I don’t think so, Harry. It’s a big job to do.” 

“Yeah, I was afraid of that.” He added, “Goblin assistance— waiting on report” to another small bit of parchment and stuck it to the blackboard next to the horcrux list. “At least it’s a start. Where’s Nev?” 

Luna picked up her book, “Greenhouses with Ransley.”

“Is he coming back soon? I have news.” Harry grinned at her. 

“More news than the goblins?” Luna looked at him in confusion. “Oh! Harry, you found him?” She suddenly sounded very excited.

“Yep, I met my magical form. I wanted to show you together, but Neville will be ages if he just went out there.” Neville might never leave the greenhouses, if they didn’t drag him up for meals and to sleep. They were quite large, and Neville was in his element. 

Luna had already met her magical form two weeks prior, but she would never shift carelessly. Sphinx were extremely dangerous and had a high risk rating from the ministry. Even though Mysteria was only an animagus form, she could still cause a lot of problems. 

Luna looked back up, resigned to not finishing the chapter, and smiled. “What are you, then?” 

Harry didn’t answer. He changed into his thunderbird form. His hair faded and smoothed down his back into luminescent pale golden feathers, and his arms become his main pair of wings. The long white feathers that grew shimmered with storms, and his beak, a bright gold, clicked sparks of lightning. Two other pairs of wings grew out of his back, smaller and paler, with cloud patterns covering them. His tail grew in long and silvery white, while his feet turned into sharp talons. He opened his beak and cried out in joy to Luna’s delight. 

She laughed brightly and he trilled at her. She held up an arm for him to perch on, and stroked his feathers. “You’re very handsome, what shall we call you?” Harry trilled again, and then took flight, leading the way to the greenhouse. “Harry!” Luna ran after him and got wet for her trouble. He hadn’t meant to, but he was trailing small mists behind him. 

By the time they reached the greenhouses, Harry had managed a gathering cloudburst, and Luna hurried inside. “Luna?” She heard Neville call. “Is that you?” She walked through the rows of plants filling the greenhouse, and found Neville tangled in a venomous tentacula. 

“Oh, are you all right, Neville?” She looked at the tendrils that were wrapping around him. 

“Oh yeah,” Neville disentangled himself, and then took another look at Luna. “Is that a thunderbird? Where on earth did that come from?” 

“This is Harry.” Luna said in the same moment that Harry transformed back to his human self. 

“Ta-Da!” He grinned at them. “Hi Ransley.” 

“Harry!” Neville tackled him into a hug. “You got your magical form! Congratulations. What’s it like? Have you been for a fly? Did you bring the rain?” 

“It’s wonderful. I haven’t really gone for a true fly yet, and yeah, sorry, that was me, I think. I’ll work on controlling it. I wanted to show you and Luna together.” 

“Wicked.” Neville grinned at him. “What’re we going to call your new form?” 

“Sparky?” Luna grinned. “Or maybe, Boomer? Sprinkles?” 

Harry tried not to laugh, but failed. “Luna, those are horrible. You aren’t allowed to name me.” 

“Or anything.” Neville mumbled. “There’s a Celtic god of thunder who carries a lightning bolt called Taranis, though. What do you think of that?” 

“Not bad, Nev. Okay, Taranis will work.” Harry smiled at them. 

Neville smirked, “You want to fly, don’t you?” 

“Merlin, yes!” Harry was nearly bouncing he was so happy. “Oh, and the goblins agreed. They’re going to go look at the shack and see about the curses, and get back to us.” 

Luna looked annoyed. “Let me get back inside to my book before you go storming around, Thunder-Butt.” 

“As you wish, sister dearest.” Harry waited till she was ten steps from the house, transformed and whooshed a gust of rain at her. His laughing cry echoed around the grounds as he swooped and circled, learning control over the elements. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with the story, even through the not-so-exciting parts. I know the Goblin negotiations drag a bit, but they need to be cautious. More Marauders next time. I hope their pranks are up to expectations! 
> 
> Next chapter title comes from Queen, “Fat Bottomed Girls.”


	17. I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders manage to accomplish the impossible...

In the fourth year boys’ dormitory in Gryffindor tower, four young men had their heads together as James Potter began describing the human transfiguration process he’d found in the library journals. It was going to be complicated. 

He looked up at his best friends. “This is going to be tricky. If anybody doesn’t want to, let me know now.” 

Peter glanced around self-consciously. “I—I wasn’t really sure, but after we saw the trips do it,” his voice faded away, before it became firm again. They had begun referring to James’ cousins as the trips. Sirius, who loved both muggle slang and puns, had insisted. Peter didn’t think he’d ever met magical triplets before. They didn’t really look alike. All three of them were pretty powerful, though, to already have their animagus at 14. The shift had been amazing to see, and he had spent a lot of time imagining the possibilities once he had an animal form. “I really want to do it now.” 

Sirius slapped his smaller friend on the back. In other circumstances, Peter would have been a great target for pranks, but he was a Marauder, and Marauder loyalty came before everything. The trips were a trip. He smirked at his thought. Usually, he’d be jealous of someone his own age with more power than he had. And, maybe he was, a little bit, but he also wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, so it wasn’t bad jealousy. He just thought they were bomb. Atomic, even. Muggles had the best slang, even if it made no sense. “Good man, Pete. I’m in, too.” He grinned up at James, his best mate in the world. “You know I’m in. Remus?”

“I never thought I’d be able to.” Remus scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, the wolf takes over so much. But your dad said I might have a mundane form, too. Yeah, I’m in. Show me that journal, again, James.” 

James handed over the copy of Transfiguration Today. “Page 33.” Remus flipped through it and pretended to be reading. He knew that this had started because he was a werewolf. James had discovered his most horrible secret when they were still just in first year. He’d given his roommates every lie he could possibly think of to hide his changes, but it had all backfired, when he had returned from the infirmary that day in May, to find all of them looking serious. The best case scenario he had imagined was being ignored and isolated from his friends. Worst case, they would make his condition public somehow. He hadn’t expected them to stand by him. That had been the day they formed the Marauders. The day that had changed his life completely. He had friends for the first time in his life. 

James grinned at his dormmates. “Excellent. Okay, so, I know we said we’d use the goblin method and start in the summer, but I want to begin now.” 

The reactions to his statement varied. Sirius smiled widely, “Naturally!” Peter looked nervous. And Remus sighed. He figured he’d be the one doing most of the research, but really, he didn’t mind. The transformation process was fascinating. The idea that it was painless was hard to fathom for the werewolf, but he was eager for it all the same. 

James, as usual, took the lead, “According to everything I’ve read, we have a lot of meditation to do.” The other three groaned, good naturedly. “Yeah, well, that’s the process. We spend time finding and connecting to our magical core, and then let the magic show us what animals we might match.” 

“That sounds too easy.” Remus was incredibly skeptical of something that vague. “What else?” 

“Well, there’s a method of finding them that requires a potion, holding a mandrake leaf in our mouths for like a month, and waiting for a storm.” James’ voice trailed away. “It’s an involved process. This way is more difficult because the animal has to want to bond with the human. They come to us, rather than us seeking them out, see? And then, it’s about building trust between you and the animal. And after that, there’s a moment of surrender to the animal, and then exerting your will over the animal.” 

Remus sent another look over to James. “Risks of this method versus the other?” 

“Well,” James hedged. “A few. But really, this is the best method, not just because we don’t have to mess around with potions. The trust you build with your animal makes the connection stronger and you’ll be able to transform faster and keep your human mind easier. The instincts don’t rule completely.”

“James! I asked for the risks, not the advantages.” Remus was beginning to feel very uneasy about this new project. 

“If you don’t build enough trust, if your animal doesn’t trust you enough, or you the animal, the third and fourth parts can get, complicated. Once you’ve meditated enough and connected with your core, you should start to see animals. Most people get more than one and have to make a choice. Once you’ve chosen, you can’t really go back, you get that animal.” 

“Uh huh.” Remus nodded. So far, he wasn’t seeing a difficulty. 

“Right, so you get your animal,” James looked squirrely. “And the next part is the essential thing, from everything I’ve read. You absolutely must build trust with your animal. There can’t be the smallest amount of doubt on either side. And since it’s an animal, they won’t understand just joking,” James looked at Sirius. “They may have trouble accepting the wolf,” he looked at Remus. “And you’ll have to be strong and consistent,” he looked at Peter. “If you can’t build the necessary trust, there’s a chance that you won’t be able to shift back into human because the animal won’t trust you. And, there’s a chance of going feral— because the animal doesn’t trust you, it won’t give up control. You have to trust the animal in order to surrender your will to it and change for the first time. Your animal also has to trust you, and give you back control.” James blew out a long breath. That was everything, as far as he knew. 

“We might get stuck?” Peter squeaked. 

“We won’t let you get stuck. We won’t let any of us get stuck.” Remus assured their smaller friend. “I don’t think any of us should try this alone, and I think we need to go it one at a time, so the ones who are still human can help with changing back.” Or get help from McG or Pomfrey, he added in his own mind. 

“That’s a good idea.” James nodded. “Sirius? Still going to try it?” 

“Of course!” Sirius stretched out a leg and pushed James off his bed. “Try an stop me!” 

“So, how do you meditate?” Peter asked. His mother had never required him to practice the pure blood ways. But he knew Sirius for sure had been shown what to do. 

“Just close your eyes, and empty your brain” James replied. 

“Easier for some than others,” snarked Sirius. 

Eventually, the boys settled into relaxed positions on their beds, closed their eyes and sought within themselves. It was not easy. James kept thinking of quidditch moves and green eyes. Sirius was trying to remember his mother’s lessons, without thinking of his mother. Remus was having the best luck, but nerves kept resurfacing. The idea that he may get stuck as the wolf had taken hold and wouldn’t let go. Peter began snoring. James was heard to giggle, and Sirius peeked open one eye, to throw a pillow at him.

Which put an effective end to the meditation session and served as the initial sortie in a pillow war that lasted till dinner time. The four trooped downstairs to the common room, still pulling feathers off their clothes. 

As they entered the Great Hall, Sirius shot a spell at a passing Slytherin, ensuring that he had a red rubber nose, rainbow colored hair, and giant shoes, but his heart wasn’t really in it. Over dinner, he kept picturing how great it was when Neville had turned into that cat, or Luna flying circles. He snorted slightly into his mashed potatoes. Maybe it wasn’t so great when Neville had got into the catnip, but still. 

“James,” he hissed. “Remember Neville getting that catnip?”

“Yeah.” James was distracted, watching Evans again. She was busy talking with Fortescue over the the Hufflepuff table. They were best friends. Well, Alice wasn’t actually her best friend, but he didn’t like to think of her spending time with that slimy bastard. 

“James!” Sirius elbowed him. “Jamie, catnip!” 

“Huh?” James turned back to his best friend. “What’re you on about, man?” 

“Do you think the greenhouses have catnip?” Sirius had that gleam in his eye again. 

“You mean?” An excited smile began to dance across James’ face. “You mean like with Neville?” 

“When are we working on human transfiguration?” Sirius grinned back, in full prank-planning mode, and proud to have successfully distracted James from Evans. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the girl. She was nice enough, and quite pretty. He just didn’t like the way James made a complete fool of himself over her. It was embarrassing. 

“Dunno.” James leaned across the table. “Remy! Hey, Remus!” 

Remus looked at their faces. “What’re you two up to now?” 

“When do we start human transfiguration?” Sirius asked. 

“Not till sixth year.” Remus looked more closely at them both. The answer hadn’t dampened their enthusiasm at all. This was clearly about more than just the animagus project. 

“Okay, well, we can get the stuff during herbology.” James was explaining. “But dosing her is going to be the problem. How do we get her exposed without her human self catching on?” 

Remus caught on to the plan. “If we get caught, we’re all dead. There will be no second chances on this one.” 

Sirius looked him in the eye and said in a low determined voice, “no guts, no glory.” 

“Yeah, we’ll live forever in legend, if we pull this one off.” James grinned fiercely. 

Remus groaned. There was going to be no stopping this. “Fine,” he sighed. “Look, you can’t just hand it to her. She’s not an idiot.” 

And so the planning was on. Over the next weeks, the Marauders balanced their time between casual pranks on Slytherins, schoolwork, meditation, and “Project McKitty” as it had come to be known. Remus was firmly of the belief that it couldn’t be done, as no one had succeeded before this. James and Sirius took this as a challenge, and determined to the first, the best, the last pranksters ever to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, by setting the gold standard of pranks. Peter wasn’t sure if it could be done or not, but he wanted to be part of it, if it was. He didn’t have many ideas himself, but he enjoyed the planning sessions. 

One morning, as Sirius and James were congratulating themselves on having successfully pranked Snape with a combination permanent sticking charm to the hand and tickling charm to the butt, Strix arrived with the rest of the post owls. She circled the great hall twice, and then landed, not in front of Remus, but on his shoulder, where she decided to preen his hair. 

Remus chuckled and raised his hand to pet her. “Hello Beautiful,” came his low voice, “What have you got there?” 

She hopped down, and held out her leg for him to untie the letter. She then helped herself to his pumpkin juice, and looked around the Great Hall for a moment. Sirius noticed her next. His face couldn’t quite settle on being stunned that she was able to fit in with the rest of the post owls, and so sneak into the castle, and impressed that she had managed it so easily. He had never thought of how useful the camouflage of an animagus form would be. He elbowed James and nodded at Strix. James’ eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Is that who I think it is?” 

Remus sent a meaningful look at his two best friends. “Guys.” He cleared his throat. They were not subtle. “Guys, why are you so shocked? The trips said they would write. Obviously, they sent an owl.” 

“Oh,” Sirius quickly adopted a wise, unaffected look, “Of course they did.” He grinned and completely ruined the look. Remus rolled his eyes. He offered Strix some of his bacon, which she took daintily, and gave him a muffled hoot, before taking off up to the owlery. 

“Well?” The Marauders put their heads together to read the letter before classes. 

_ Dear Cousin and Cousin’s friends,  _

_ Thank you for your letter of last week. We’re glad to hear that you aren’t letting class get in the way of an education.  _

“Ha!” Sirius barked out a laugh. 

_ All three of us have found that the most important lessons come through experience. Classes can help, of course, but when you really want to learn or need to learn something, well, those are the lessons that stay with you. Who needs to levitate a feather? Levitating a club over a troll’s head is much more useful, trust us.  _

_ We’ve given some thought to your problem, and we agree that it will be both epic should you succeed and disastrous should you be caught. We also think it cannot be done. And thus, the challenge is laid. It only remains for stakes to be named.  _

The Marauders looked at each other with excitement filling their eyes. This was going to be outstanding. 

_ Should you fail to accomplish the prank of pranks by the time we see one another again, we have a task for you to complete at the castle. It will be time consuming, but not onerous. Should you succeed, you may, of course, name a favor to be called in.  _

_ We leave you with this hint, and hope it will prove useful: the herb in question has the same effect when used as a plant oil. Felix would like to add that the effect is considerably more persistent, while Bandit would like to mention that the results are far more entertaining. _

_ Best of luck, gentlemen. _

_ Bandit, Felix, and Strix _

James' eyes lit up. “Plant oil!” He looked at his friends. “We can do this!” 

“Wait, there’s a P.S.” Remus read further

_ P.S. Strix will carry your reply. We are eager to hear your stakes. _

The boys grinned at each other. This would take some thinking about. They headed for their first lesson, Charms, at a run, Remus pocketing the letter with a smile. James’ cousins were very interesting. 

On their way to Herbology that afternoon, they caught another glimpse of Strix flying out over the forbidden forest near Hagrid’s house, and grinned at each other. They shared that lesson with the Slytherins, and spent most of it trying to wrangle a herd of bouncing bulbs.

“I wonder what task they have for us at the castle?” Remus asks, while working to corral some of the younger bulbs into their pots. 

James shrugged. He decided to fight the plants rather than coax them, and got hit in the face for his trouble. “No idea. I’m not quite sure where they’re living, they just call it The Castle. Maybe they inherited it from the Mortis family?”

“Well, we better get our act together, or we’ll be finding out what sort of task and what sort of castle when we get stuck working there.” Sirius said, slipping back into the conversation with a handful of stems. 

Peter looked curious, “What’re those?” 

“Well, we need something to experiment with, don’t we?” Sirius shrugged, and slipped the plants into his pocket. 

They sent their reply, with the challenge accepted and stakes named, with Strix the next morning. She was looking sleepy, but happy, when they wished her a good journey, letter attached to her leg. It took another week for the marauders to realize that they needed the seeds of the plant, rather than the leaves, and an oil press. It took another two weeks to get everything together on a Hogsmeade weekend. During this time, they had made their plans for the application of the oil. 

Finally, everything was ready. Sixth years had transfiguration after break on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They weren’t sure whether “the target” would transform in either lesson, but had spent some time pestering Frank Longbottom, who was in that class, about the lesson schedule, so at least they knew it was being discussed. They had debated quite a long time on whether it would be wise to tip Frank ahead of time and get him to ask about a demonstration. Remus vetoed that idea, as likely to earn Frank a detention. Sirius only gave in after considering that Longbottom might get the glory rightly belonging to them. Once this was pointed out, he agreed with the rest of them that waiting for the target to transform on her own would be best. 

So it was, that during the morning break James was knocking on the transfiguration classroom door, intending to ask some theoretical questions of his head of house, in his favorite subject. His friends, who easily grew bored of the discussion, began to wander about the classroom discussing everything from quidditch odds to gobstone strategies and attempting to be subtle. Sirius managed to use a sticking charm on a small rectangular black box on the underside of a bookshelf in the back of the classroom, while pretending to peruse the titles. Peter accidentally managed to knock over the professor’s tea cup, and Remus cleaned up, berating him for his clumsiness, and giving the teacher’s desk a careful and thorough rub down with a prepared handkerchief. Finally, James ran out of questions, and the warning bell sounded in the halls. The four mischief makers extraordinaire hurried out of the classroom and down to the potions lab, eagerly anticipating the results. 

So when, that evening at dinner, Professor McGonagall was in attendance and just as stern looking as ever, it was a rather morose looking foursome that grumbled over their chicken and mushy peas. 

They headed back up to the tower, intending to meditate and wait till Thursday to make a second attempt. They had enough oil for three applications, but hoped they wouldn’t need it. 

By the time lunch rolled around on Thursday, the marauders were having serious trouble sitting still. Their transfiguration lesson was that afternoon, and they were impatient to examine the evidence of their experiments. It wasn’t to be, however, as before lunch was served, Professor Dumbledore stood and cancelled all of Professor McGonagall’s afternoon lessons. They were sent to the library to fill in worksheets instead. The looks exchanged at the Gryffindor table were full of meaning and nearly manic glee. 

The next day, an anonymous Hogwarts school owl arrived at Pendragon Castle, landing in the middle of breakfast. It stuck out a leg and was relieved of a rather thick letter, took a bit of kipper, and flapped back out. Neville opened the letter, and began to read, but Harry picked up the photos that had been included and began to laugh. The letter was written in four different handwritings with crossings out, and sarcastic comments in the margins, but included a very detailed report on a successful Operation McKitty. 

Harry, Luna, and Neville looked at one another. “I suppose we owe them congratulations,” Neville looked at the photos of his former head of house, and choked on a sip of tea. 

Harry just grinned, “I can’t believe those idiots pulled it off. It’s not like any of them are subtle.”

“I wonder if they’ll be able to avoid bragging about it and getting caught after all.” Luna snickered, knowing it was unlikely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, have they lived up to their legend? I hope so. I wanted to keep them relatively close to canon. At any rate, yes, they managed to do it. They even got photos. McGonagall knows who to blame, but hasn’t any proof, so.... 
> 
> Next chapter title comes from Sly and the Family Stone, “Family Affair”


	18. You can’t leave cause your heart is there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders are home for the summer, and the Potters and the Mortis triplets pick them up from the train. They happen to notice a few other familiar faces, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: for bad parenting? Honestly, it’s no secret that the Blacks favor their younger son and dislike Sirius, so we’ll see some of that. It’s not explicit in any way. But if you want or need to skip it, The paragraph begins with “Then Sirius approached his family” If you take a pass on that paragraph, the rest should be safe.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Harry looked into Luna’s pale eyes, wondering for the eleventh time why on earth he and his siblings were where they were. 

“You ask me that too often. Yes, I’m sure.” She sounded quite certain, so he shrugged and decided to go with the flow for the moment. 

He, Neville, and Luna stood next to Fleamont and Euphemia waiting on a scarlet steam engine to arrive at King’s Cross Station. This had so much potential for disaster. He had only barely survived dinner with the Marauders. It was hard enough to see his father happy and alive, but to witness Sirius before Azkaban, to see Remus before the wolf and poverty had truly taken their bites. It was too much. He could laugh at their adventures over letters exchanged, but hearing happy voices, seeing their enthusiasm— it was a knife in his happiness. He still struggled with seeing Remus and Tonks laying out dead in the Great Hall; had nightmares about Sirius falling through the veil. 

Luna took his hand. “You can do this, Harrison Mortis.” He grimaced, not nearly as convinced as she was. “We are changing things. They will never be the people we knew. Never. We will end the war before it touches them.”

Neville threw an arm around his shoulders. “We will.” His voice sounded the same as when he confronted Voldemort. The same confidence and determination to see the thing done. 

“There will be no fidelius, no betrayal in the night, no dementors, no long years of wondering what went wrong.” Luna squeezed his hand. “They will never be the people we knew. They are just teenagers who had a good year at school. We can mourn the men we knew, and still love the boys we see.” She smiled at him. 

Harry sighed, and looked at the empty track again. The train would arrive in five minutes. He leaned his head against Neville’s shoulder. Once again, he thanked the fates for sending him back with these two. What a mess he’d be alone. 

“Everything all right, Harrison?” Fleamont had a knowing look on his face. 

Harry offered him a smile. “Yes, Uncle Monty. Just getting excited for next year.”

“Have you decided to attend Hogwarts, then?” Euphemia put an arm around her husband’s waist. She would love for these steady, responsible, honorable teenagers to be an influence on her son and their friends. She wished again that Fleamont would exercise a little more discipline on their little hell spawn. 

“Yes, Aunt Effie.” Neville replied. “It will be good for our future, and we will need our OWLs and NEWTs.” The hint about the future was enough for the older couple. They nodded. “Well, then, we’ll need to get you registered this summer. That’ll mean a trip to Hogwarts!” 

“Hmm.” Harry’s attention was caught by a couple with their teenage daughter coming through the archway to the muggle station. He would recognize her no matter what age she was, no matter where she was. He had spent years hating the long horse-face and excessive neck. They could only belong to one woman, and Harry had no desire at all to see her. He shuddered, but couldn’t seem to look away. The older man who stood near her craned his neck for a glimpse of the train, and seemed to be amused by the different colors of robes worn by the other waiting parents. The older woman had turned to her daughter and was telling her off for something. 

Harry felt his heart was going to explode out of his chest. Aunt Petunia had never mentioned them. Snape had never mentioned them, either, come to that. He didn’t even know these people’s names. He had never thought of them, too focused on their younger daughter. He felt guilt consume him. How could he have forgotten his maternal grandparents. But he was seeing them now. He could walk over and introduce himself. He could get to know them. Things that Dudley had never been allowed, but he could do. He felt a twinge of childish vindictive delight at that thought. He had grandparents, and Dudley had only horrible Aunt Marge and her bulldogs. He rasped in a deep breath and turned his head before he drew their attention. They were here. It was enough. He looked back like an addict, longingly. 

Euphemia glanced at the couple Harrison was so interested in. She wondered. She’d seen that look in his eyes when he first laid eyes on Fleamont, and then herself, and then James, so she knew they must be family of some sort, but they were clearly muggles. Who were they? 

Luna also looked over. “The Evans?” She murmured to Harry. He glanced at her and nodded. “Patience, my brother.” She kept holding his hand and it felt like the only real thing in the world. 

They heard the train before they saw it come puffing into the station, all steam and chattering children. The students poured out of the compartments, eager to see their families after a year spent in a magical castle. Naturally, most of them were strangers to Harry, Neville, and Luna, but it was easy enough to spot James and his friends, piling out of the train with trunks and treat wrappers and other Gryffindors. 

James bounded over to his parents, smirking at his cousins. He was quickly wrapped up in the love of his family, his mother smothering him with embarrassing affection and his father looking on fondly. Harry smiled, wistfully. He was usually hugged off the train by Mrs. Weasley, but it wasn’t quite the same. She tended to scold him more than hug him, and was often too overwhelmed by her own children to offer any real welcome to him. Besides, he always had the Dursleys waiting for him. 

Harry glanced once more over at the Evans. They were still waiting for their daughter, but Harry caught the direction of their looks. He quickly looked the same way, and saw long red hair standing next to a tall, lanky boy with black hair and eyes and a brunette with short curls and a round face. He took a deep breath in, and looked over at Neville. They had known that their mothers were friends, but to see them there, both alive and happy and chatting comfortably with a boy who must be a younger version of Snape. It was a strange moment, to be sure. 

Neville, especially, looked pale. Harry knew he was hearing his mother’s voice for the first time, seeing her smiling and engaged with the world around her. She was full of light and laughter and color as she hugged her best friends, and wandered over to her parents. Harry pulled Neville close, and wrapped an arm around him. Holding his brother up as they watched their mothers giggle together, he whispered fiercely, “They’ll live, Neville. They’ll both live and be happy. We’ll change it.” Neville nodded, and forced himself to unclench his fists. Harry’s vow took root in his own heart. They would change it all.

James was still prattling on about classes and end of year tests to his parents, without a care in the world, as Harry watched Sirius approach his parents. Orion and Walburga Black were an imposing couple standing aloof from the crowds as they watched the family reunions with disdain. Orion stood quite tall, his hair long and black and pulled away from his face in a flat plait down his back. His grey eyes were cold and distant, but there was something in his jaw and his stance that was relaxed. Walburga on the other hand was every bit as fiery as her portrait back in Grimmauld. Harry shuddered, remembering. Her long black curls were pulled into an elaborate knot at the base of her neck, and her eyes flashed in annoyance at the muggles meeting their wizarding children. Her mouth twisted in a sneer as she saw a few families walk through the barrier into King’s Cross. She was an ugly woman, Harry decided, and her looks were only made worse by her expression. The couple were reserved in greeting a young boy of about twelve, who Harry supposed must be Regulus. Walburga almost smiled as she permitted a kiss on her cheek, and Orion shook his hand with a look of pride. 

Then Sirius approached his family. Orion’s mouth tightened as he saw his eldest’s house robes. He sighed, and turned as though to leave via the station floo, but Walburga approached her eldest son with venom on her lips. She refused to make a scene, but her hissed invective caused Sirius to shrink away. When she saw this, a gleam brightened her eyes. She reached out a clawed hand and dug her nails into Sirius’ arm. She dragged Sirius toward the floo, following her husband and younger son. Harry’s hands clenched. They had looked just like the Dursleys had when picking him up from the station. 

Luna took one of his hands and gently straightened his fingers. She smiled at him sadly. “Yes, it’s horrible. But it’ll get better soon. Promise.” Harry took a deep breath and smiled back at her. He loved Luna’s promises. He could always count on them. 

Then, James shouted his name with a grin, and he got pulled into the Potters’ circle for a moment. “Hello, James.” Harry smiled at his father. “Good term?” 

“The best!” James grinned. “Did you get our pictures?” 

Harry shook his head in laughter, “Priceless.” 

James turned his head, “Where’s Siri?” 

“He already left,” Harry answered, wondering at how clueless his father could be. Didn’t he notice how Sirius was treated? Didn’t he see the callous greeting and the disgust that the Blacks had for their heir? At least he’d had the Weasleys. They hadn’t always understood what he was dealing with, but they knew enough to keep him fed and supplied with healing potions. Did Sirius have anybody who would help him? He’d always thought the Marauders were the best of friends. Everyone said that James and Sirius were closer than brothers. But his father hadn’t even noticed the way Orion and Walburga treated Sirius. How could James be so oblivious to his best friend’s suffering?

“Ah!” James threw his hands up. “We had a plan!” 

Harry’s eyes widened, and his voice was cold. “His parents looked impatient to leave.” He couldn’t believe his father’s immaturity. Sirius was returning to a family that hated him, and James was upset about a failed prank? 

Just then, he saw Remus walking up to the group with his parents. As the adults shook hands and exchanged greetings, Remus sent a shy smile over to Luna and the others. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Thank you, Remus.” Luna smiled at him. 

Harry and Neville shook hands with the wolf, and asked after the school year, congratulated Remus on the prank of pranks, which they figured he must have masterminded. Remus laughed, “I may have helped with strategy, but the idea was all James, inspired by Neville, actually.” He smirked over at the puma animagus. 

“Oh Merlin.” Neville groaned, “Don’t remind me.” 

They all laughed. Mr. Lupin looked on at his son, glad that he had friends, but worried, always worried, about secrets, about possible disasters, about the future. He wondered what would become of his son as he witnessed the greeting between him and the pale-haired vague-looking girl standing with the Potters. “Remus,” he called. “Introductions, please.” 

Remus straightened up and turned to him, “Of course. Father, I would like to present Harrison, Neville, and Luna Mortis. They are cousins to James, and Lord Potter is their guardian. Harrison, Neville, Luna, I’d like you to meet my father, Lyall Lupin.” 

Harry took the lead, “It’s nice to meet you, Sir.” He offered his hand to shake and smiled at the man. Lyall took the hand with a measuring look at the boy in front of him. He looked the same age as Remus and his friends, but felt older, more mature. As he took the measure of Harrison Mortis, he realized that he approved of this friendship. Very much so. He looked toward the boy’s siblings, and saw the same look in all three eyes. It was a look of heavy responsibility and much grief, but held back, if only just so, by strength of spirit and a determination to find joy. 

He smiled at all three of them. “How do you know my son?” 

Harry grinned. “We met at Potter manor during the spring holiday, and since he is friends with our cousin, we’ve written a few times over the school term.”

Lyall nodded and smiled. “Where do you go to school?”

Neville smiled at the man, “Oh, we were homeschooled when we were younger, but when our father passed away, we met our Aunt and Uncle Potter, and moved to England. Because it was the middle of the school year, we decided to do some training at Gringotts and start Hogwarts fresh in September.”

Lyall looked consideringly at the three of them. Either they had some very good advice or made sound decisions on their own. Perhaps a combination of both. “My condolences on the passing of your father, and my best wishes for you at Hogwarts next year. Perhaps we’ll meet again on September first.” 

Luna smiled, “We look forward to it, Sir.” She turned the smile on Remus, who blushed. Lyall raised an eyebrow at his son. It seemed they needed a discussion on the inadvisability of werewolves in love. He nodded in farewell, and steered Remus toward the floo. 

Luna shook her head as they took their leave from the Potters. Harry noticed and turned to her, “What is it, Sis?” 

“That man is going to fill Remus’ head full of poison, and it’s going to linger.” She said. “The worst part is that he’s going to do it because he loves his son.” 

“The furry problem?” Harry asked. Luna nodded, her mouth firming. “You like him, don’t you?” Harry smiled. 

Luna sniffed delicately at him, “I like everybody, Thunder Butt.” Harry grimaced. The name had stuck from the first time he’d shown off his new form. 

Deciding to go big, he grinned at Luna, “Yeah, but you  _ really _ like him.” 

“Oh shut up.” Luna pushed him, blushing lightly. “What if I do?”

“I think it’s wonderful, and that if he makes you cry I’m gonna zap him with lightning.” Harry grinned at her. “Be happy, Lunabelle.” He kissed her cheek, and then turned to share the news with Neville. 

But Neville was distracted, and Harry soon saw why. Lily was saying her farewells to her best friend. They were giggling like mad and looking over their shoulders toward a tall sixth year with short blond hair and soft hazel eyes. When they see him glancing over, Lily elbows Alice, and hisses something at her. She grins and blushes, but smiles back at the tall boy. 

Severus, who has been enduring this with stoic good humor, rolls his eyes. Finally, the whispering becomes farewells, and he is made to suffer through a hug, promises to write, and wishes for a happy summer. He genuinely likes Alice Fortescue, although he knows he is only friends with her because of Lily. She could make friends with anybody, but he’d always had trouble reaching out. He was lucky she wanted to stay friends when they got to Hogwarts, especially being in different houses. It was getting more and more difficult to spend time together. Summer holidays were a mixed experience. Being around his parents, especially his father, was a trial, but he would escape as often as he could to see Lily. Her parents were different than his. They cared about their children, and even though he couldn’t stand Petunia, it was worth it to get away from Spinner’s End. 

He and Lily walked toward the Evans, unaware of the green eyes following their progress. Harry sighed, and turned to Neville, who was still watching as his mother found her parents waiting on her. He looked over. He knew that Nev had spent his time with his father’s mother, and wondered if he’d ever gotten to know his maternal grandparents. 

“All right, Nev?” He asked quietly. 

Neville looked over at Harry, a sad but genuine smile on his face. “It’s good to see her happy.” 

Harry nodded, understanding completely. “Yeah,” he looked toward the archway as the Evanses and Severus walked through. “Yeah, it is. C’mon.” He nodded toward where the Potters were gathering up all the spilled and messy belongings that had escaped James’ control. 

Euphemia took control and with a swish of her wand, everything fell into the trunk, which latched shut in a very final way. She looked sternly at her son, and then turned the look on Harry, Neville, and Luna. “You three are coming home with us for a big dinner. What you all need is some good family time.” 

“As you wish, Aunt Effie.” Luna smiled at her. 

“Absolutely!” Fleamont beamed at them. They made their way to the floo, and Fleamont held the bag of shiny grey dust out. “Ladies first, I believe is the correct way to do things.” Euphemia smirked at him, and took a pinch of dust, disappearing in the swirling green flames. Luna went next, followed quickly by Neville, Harrison, and James, before Fleamont joined them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Walburga is going to get worse before Sirius’ situation gets better, but that’s also part of the story. For now, his summer is off with a fairly bad start. Remus is also locked away with parents who love him, but hate the wolf. He learned it from somewhere, folks. Peter’s mother has bundled him home, even though we don’t see it, and naturally Severus carpools to and from Kings Cross with the Evans family. Alice is also home with her folks. James, naturally, is oblivious to all but his own happiness and plans. 
> 
> Next chapter title is borrowed from Nena, “99 Luftballons”


	19. Das gab ein großes Feuerwerk Die Nachbarn haben nichts gerafft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goblins to the rescue! Harry and company manage to negotiate with the cursebreakers, and they retrieve and store a horcrux. It’s small but it’s progress toward the overall goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to canon, Neville has only an indistinct patronus, but I don’t like that idea. I figure that with his work in the DA during his fifth year, and the chaos, but also the long hours of hiding during his seventh, he would have worked on it. And even if not, he would once they landed in the past because Harry would see it as important. So, I went with squirrel.

With the onset of the summer holidays, Harry, Luna, and Neville spent less and less time at the bank, and more and more time working at home or visiting the Potters. More and more often, they found themselves reminding the elder Potters that they weren’t quite as young as they looked. It seemed that with their son at home, Euphemia and Fleamont wanted to extend their parenting instincts to their “cousins.” Harry, who had never really been parented, vacillated between the extremes in response to this. He felt both extremely happy allowing Euphemia to mother him, and extremely annoyed at the hovering attempts to treat him like a child. Neville seemed most suited to accepting their attitude, but generally, they preferred to spend their days at Pendragon Castle, making and revising plans in the war room. 

“Harry!” He heard his brother’s voice from down the hall, as he sat in the war room. Wondering why Neville was looking for him, he called back. “We got word from the goblins!”

“Finally!” Harry sat up straighter. “They must have the report on the Gaunt property.” He made grabby hands toward the letter. 

Neville waved it over his head, “Patience!” He grinned. “Where’s Luna?” 

“No idea. Probably the library.” Harry swiped at the letter and missed. 

“I am here, brother. Why are you acting like an idiot?” Luna’s voice broke into the middle of their tussle over the officially sealed parchment. 

Neville looked disgruntled, and slouched down into the sofa. “We’re not acting like idiots.” He grumped. While he was sulking, Harry snatched the letter out of his hand, crowing in his victory. 

Neville rolled his eyes. “Well? Read it then, if you’re so determined.” 

Harry stuck his tongue out at his brother, and broke the seal on the letter. 

_ Lord Emrys Mors Slytherin Gaunt _

_ Lady Le Fey duLac _

_ Once and Future King of All Wizarding Britain, Lord Ambrosius _

_ Dear Goblin Friends,  _

_ We write to inform you of the completion of a report ordered on the Gaunt property located outside the mundane village of Little Hangleton. Please find enclosed a list of the wards and curses identified by Lead Cursebreaker Goslok. The goblins of Gringotts are willing to negotiate with you regarding remuneration for the removal of these wards and curses. In keeping with your wish for confidentiality, it will be Team Urguld which will do the actual curse breaking. They are the highest rated team in the British Branch, and well up to the task. They are comprised of three goblin warders, two goblin experts in wizard magics— light and dark, and two humans, who have our confidence. If you wish to proceed with this matter, reply with a convenient time for meeting. Should we not hear from you, we will assume the matter is closed.  _

_ Chieftain Ragnok II,  _

_ Goblin Nation, British Division _

The second sheet of the letter was a long list of curses tied to the land, the house, and the horcrux itself. The report did not list the ring as a horcrux, but as the focus of many curses. Harry grinned at the other two. “Well, we’re nearly on the way to having one horcrux and a hallow!” 

Neville looked thoughtful. “Harry, I think we should negotiate with the goblins to collect but not clear the horcrux. If they have a secure area to keep it in, we should collect them all first.”

“I’m okay with that, but why?” Harry looked thoughtfully at Neville. There had to be a reason. 

Neville frowned. He felt out of his depth, but certain about this course all the same, “Well, last time, when you destroyed them, he was either unbodied or really weak, right?” 

“Unbodied, for sure. The diary was the first one he made, and I stabbed it in second year. But weak?” Harry didn’t think Voldemort had been all that weak, but maybe he was. He shuddered to think what a full-strength Voldemort would be like. 

“Yes, weak. He was restored to a body through Pettigrew’s magic and potion making skills. Now, don’t get me wrong, the Peter we know now is okay, I guess— he’s young and eager and cute, sort of like a puppy— but he’s not exactly a magical powerhouse, is he?” 

Harry snorted at both the description and the idea of Peter as a magical powerhouse. It was true. The boy they knew now and the man who had tried several times to kill him were just not the same person in his mind. 

“Exactly,” Neville said, with a snort of his own. “So the potion would have been affected by the inclusion of his flesh, his power and his potion making skills. It couldn’t have been as strong, and the magic of the ritual wouldn’t have been the same as if Riddle had used Snape or Dolohov or Bellatrix, or anyone, really.” 

Harry nodded, he could see where Neville was going with this. “So you think, when he returned, he wasn’t as strong as he’d be now. He also used up a lot of that magic during the fight in the graveyard. Possessing me couldn’t have been too easy in fifth year either. Sixth year is when we really started going after the horcruxes, well, the end of sixth and most of what should’ve been seventh.”

“Exactly, and that’s after he lost his wand, and Lucius’ wouldn’t work for him either. I think he never knew you were destroying the horcruxes because he didn’t have enough magic left in him to feel the destruction. But now, it’s possible he will know. So, I think we need to wait till we’ve got them all, and then have the goblins go at them in one fell swoop, just as we attack his body.”

“If we destroy them all at once, and he does feel it, he’s going to be enraged. He’ll start making more for sure.” Harry looked worried. 

Luna looked over at them, “We will need to provoke him into an attack. Once we are fighting, one of us can send a patronus to Ragnok, and he can destroy them. Then we’ll need to finish off the bit still inside him.” 

“That’s,” Harry paused, looking incredulously at Luna, “that’s utterly terrifying, Luna.” He took a deep breath and took in the determined looks on his brother’s and sister’s faces. “But it’s a good plan. So, we negotiate with the goblins to break the curses at the Gaunt shack, collect but not clear the ring, and keep a horde of the horcruxes until the proper moment, and then act swiftly at a moment’s notice to destroy them, preferably without destroying their containers.” 

Neville gave a weak little chuckle. “Is that all?” 

Luna smiled. “It’ll work. But we will need more training to be ready.” 

Harry nodded, “We’ll work on it. We’ll be ready.” He moved to one of the writing desks in the room, and dashed off an appointment to meet with Ragnok the next day for discussion. 

That evening, as they were reading in the library, an owl tapped on the glass. Harry moved to let it in, “I think it’s the Potters’ owl.” 

“Another request to move in with them?” Neville smirked. He liked Harry’s grandparents a lot, but was happier on their own in the Castle. 

Harry frowned as he read the note. “Apparently not. It’s about Hogwarts.” He read through the letter. “The gist is that we’ll need to register, and for that, naturally, our ‘guardians’ would take us to the castle. They mentioned placement tests and a meeting with the headmaster.” Harry looked up. It would be the first time they were face to face with Dumbledore since he attacked the manor. They’d avoided the magical world completely, other than Gringotts and their short stop at Platform 9¾. 

Neville, ever the practical one, nodded. “Well, he won’t know who we are at all. If we can, we should avoid his brand of special attention.”

Harry nodded vehemently. “He’ll be curious about us because he’s so invested in James and the others. We’ll need to be careful whatever happens.” 

“Make the appointment for after the goblins.” Neville said, and returned to his book. 

Harry agreed, but sat worried for a while after that. What on earth would the placement tests be? He did not want Dumbledore’s attention this time around, so how was he to avoid revealing his magical and political strength? He sighed. There was no point in worrying about what he couldn’t avoid. They had to go to Hogwarts. He sat at the desk to reply to his grandparents, setting the appointment for the end of the week, if that suited them. 

In the morning, they got ready and visited the bank. Ragnok was waiting for them in his office, and after they said farewell to the guards who escorted them, they bowed deeply. “Greetings, Chieftain Ragnok. May your enemies taste your blade.” 

“Greetings Your Majesty, Lord Mors, and Lady LeFey. May the bodies of your foes line your path.”

“And here’s to hoping that they will.” Harry smirked. “How fares the chieftain of the British Branch?” He settled into a seat in front of Ragnok’s desk. 

“We at Gringotts are prospering, Young Lord. And yourselves?” 

Harry shrugged. “A little nervous about placement tests at Hogwarts, to be honest. I don’t want the Old Fart to know anything about us, and you know he scans people’s thoughts. All that damn twinkling. I don’t want him finding out about our, uh, history” he said this with a look full of sarcasm, “ or the extent of our power. Lady LeFey especially. He’d want to exploit what she knows.” 

Ragnok nodded, “Understandable. Check the vaults, there ought to be charmed jewelry that might be of assistance in camouflaging your strength.” 

Harry nodded in thanks. “We shall.” He looked to Neville, who hadn’t thought of what Dumbeldore would do to Luna if he knew of her abilities. He looked shaken, but determined. Harry nodded, and then turned back to the goblin chieftain. “Ragnok, we have certain questions about the wizards on Cursebreaking Team Urguld.”

Ragnok smiled, “Yes, I thought you might.” 

“Please don’t think that we mistrust Gringotts.” Harry worried that he might have upset the goblin. “But there is a lot riding on this situation. If either side in the escalating wizarding war were to find out about our search of this property, the results could be catastrophic. Including for the goblin nation.” 

“The goblin nation?” Here, Ragnok was extremely interested. 

Harry nodded, seriously. “In the interests of entering negotiations, I will explain some of what is to come.” He looked at Luna, who nodded calmly. They had already discussed what may or may not need to be revealed in this meeting. “The light side of this war will have control over the magical world for approximately fifteen years. During that time, Gringotts will enjoy what we might call limited autonomy. There will be no advancement of goblin rights, but neither will there be large curtailment of them either. For the most part, you all manage to keep your secrets from us, and tolerate our insults as you guard our gold.” He paused and looked up. 

Ragnok nodded, he had more or less expected this. “And after those fifteen years?”

Harry grimaced. Ragnok would not like this. “Tom Marvolo Riddle and his Death Eaters take over the wizarding world. They control the ministry, the Wizengamot, and Gringotts.”

“They control Gringotts?” Ragnok seethed. 

“They will. Yes. Understand that I was named ‘Undesirable Number One,’ so there was a limit to how much I saw. I spent most of that time on the run. But I did end up in Gringotts once before the end of the war, and it was not good.” Here, Harry got a bit nervous. He wasn’t going to tell Ragnok what he was doing in the bank that one time he was there. It still sat as a lump in the bottom of his stomach that the goblins he knew and had more or less befriended would ever find out he broke in and stole the cup and their dragon. He continued hastily, “What I witnessed included human ministry-approved guards standing around in sensitive areas of the bank— the lobby, the cart hall, and in the hallway leading to the offices. I didn’t have business in those offices, so I cannot tell you much more than that. It was also clear that the goblin tellers had been given orders about who should be allowed vault access.” 

He broke off, as Ragnok was growling out curses under his breath. Goblin swear words were much better than English, he thought with wide eyes. 

Neville picked up the story, “Chieftain, for my own reasons I do not want the light nor the dark to control the wizarding world. I want there to be peace, and I want there to be representation for all magics and creatures. Neither extreme leads to a good life for the majority of the magical world.”

Ragnok got control over his emotions and looked up at the trio in front of him. “These things will come to pass?” 

“Who can say what will happen in the future?” Luna’s voice was clear and strong. “But this was our life, before we arrived here.

Harry cleared his throat, nervously, “If word gets out about what we are looking for, or where we are looking. If one of your employees goes home and keeps the secret for a year, or two or four, or never mentions it for the rest of his life, but then when he hears of Little Hangleton in a bar, smiles in recognition, and the wrong person sees him do so, and the Gaunt site is examined and found to be empty, we risk everything.”

Ragnok nods, knowing where this is going. “The human cursebreakers will agree to be obliviated or they will never know of this project.” 

“Thank you, Chieftain.” Harry exhaled in relief. He had no fear that the goblins would give away the secret by whisper or careless glance. For the first part, everything they did in front of humans was cautious, and for the second, they were stoic bastards, every last one. It was the humans he worried about. 

“In light of this accommodation, the goblin nation requests as fee 50% value of the land the curses stand upon, and 25% estimated value of the item to be retrieved.” 

Harry grinned. Negotiations were starting high! The goblins must respect him rather a lot to begin with such outlandish numbers. “I don’t think so. 5% of the land value and a flat fee for the item.” He grinned, but was careful to keep his teeth covered in respect. Let the games begin. He had no fear of lowballing the goblins. The lower he began negotiations the more negotiating would need to happen. A lengthy and adversarial negotiation process was the only acceptable way to reach a decision with the goblins, and the more bickering that happened, the more respect accorded to each side. 

Ragnok also smiled fiercely. He did like this wizard and his siblings. They not only brought in more profit than any other account, they were not stuck up and acted like goblins when they were in the bank. That did not mean he would be giving away the bank’s services, however. He turned his mind back to the negotiations. 

Eventually, they settled on 15% of the land’s value, and 5% of the item’s, in gold to be delivered upon the item’s recovery and the replacement of as many curses as possible upon the property. Ragnok agreed to this, on condition that the valuation of the item be done at Gringotts by goblins. They settled the issue with a contract. 

Harry again spoke up. “Ragnok, I need to ask a question, and depending on your answer, perhaps a favor.” 

“Speak your mind, Lord Mors.” Ragnok nodded at him, happy with the results of the negotiation. 

“What is the goblin opinion of horcruxes?” The question fell into the middle of the conversation like a stone into a pool of water. 

“Horcruxes?” Ragnok turned steely eyes on the young lord in front of him. “What does a wizard of so few years know of such evil?” 

“I know that Tom Riddle has made several of them.” Harry answered carefully. 

Ragnok spat at the floor next to his desk. “Wizarding arrogance. How dare he try to cheat his own death by stealing the lives of others?” 

Harry blew out a breath. Well, things were looking promising. “Do the goblins know how to destroy them?” 

“A horcrux must be rendered beyond magical repair. A cursed fire would manage it, some venoms, possibly.” Ragnok looked thoughtful. “Is this the item we will retrieve at the Gaunt shack?” 

Harry looked at Neville and Luna, before slowly nodding his head. “Yes, Chieftain. We would like to further contract with the goblins to safely store the horcruxes of Tom Marvolo Riddle, until such time as they may all be destroyed at once. We do not want him to become aware of our knowledge of them, nor to create more as we would not know what or where they are. The items must be destroyed once they have all been collected, and only when Riddle is engaged in battle. We mean to destroy him utterly, but it must be done with precise timing.” 

Ragnok nodded. “I see that, but how would you alert us to the exact time when the destruction becomes necessary?” 

Harry smiled again, softer this time. “If I may, sir? To show you, I will need to cast one spell. It will do no harm, I give you my word.” 

Ragnok’s eyes flared, but he pressed a series of hidden runes to deactivate the alarms and curses in his office. “One spell.” He nodded. 

“Expecto patronum.” Harry intoned. He was surprised when a jackal of pure light emerged from his wand tip, instead of the expected stag. He supposed it made sense, though. At this point, his father wasn’t much of a protection and didn’t have a stag form yet. He whispered to the jackal, who promptly jumped to Ragnok’s side and told him in Harry’s voice, “It is time.” 

Harry stowed his wand, and waited while the Chieftain reset the wards against wand magic. “That is Anubis, and he will come to you in an instant should I send him from anywhere in the world. Neville, Luna, or I will send you word in this manner as soon as battle is engaged. Neville’s patronus is a squirrel, while Luna’s is a hare. The patronus will only come to you, wherever you may be, but any in the vicinity might hear, so the message will not be explicit. We will need you to act with haste, though, once you receive it.” 

“How many horcruxes do you anticipate?” Ragnok wondered at these three strange humans. They were bold without being arrogant, and powerful without becoming drunk on that power. He’d never met humans who were more goblin-like. 

“Five.” Harry looked steadily at the goblin chief. “He intends to make six, so as to have a seven-part soul, which he considers the most magically powerful number.” 

“It  _ is _ the most magically powerful number, Harry.” Luna broke in. 

“But not when breaking apart your soul, Lu.” Harry took a deep breath. “But at the moment he has only five.” Harry scratched at his forehead, glad that the bit of Voldemort was gone. 

“Very well,” Ragnok brought out another piece of parchment and began to compose the contract for the disposal of the horcruxes. 

“Is there a way to keep the items intact, but destroy the soul pieces?” Harry asked. 

“For a fee.” The goblin grinned up at him. “The items are of worth?” 

“Some of them.” Harry conceded. “For a further 1.5% of the value of all the items, will Gringotts salvage the original soul containers and dispose of the soul pieces?”

“For a further 10% Gringotts will do so.” Ragnok looked carefully at Harrison, wondering what on earth the horcruxes were. 

“3%” Harry said, and held up a hand, “3% or just go ahead and destroy them. I’m not sure my vaults could handle more than that.” 

Ragnok looked extremely impressed. The vaults Harry spoke of were impressive. The items must be of extreme worth. 

And so the agreement was signed. The horcruxes would be collected and stored in a specialized vault deep within the caves of Gringotts. When they were collected, the goblins would do the transferral ritual to move the horcrux to an item of no value, and place the original container, cleaned of dark magic within a separate vault. Upon notification by patronus, the new horcruxes would be destroyed. Gringotts would calculate the value of the original items, and assess a three percent fee. 

Once both sides had signed, Ragnok looked over at the remarkable humans sitting in his office. “Well, friends, considering our business has been concluded, I invite you to be present at the ward breaking done at the Gaunt Shack. Your presence is not necessary, but as the commissioning party, you are welcome to attend if you wish.” 

Harry looked at Neville and Luna. He was curious about the goblin magic, naturally, and he’d like to be there, but didn’t want either of his siblings hurt by what may happen. He explained his worries, “What do you recommend, Chief?” 

Ragnok was impressed. His opinion was not usually sought in such matters. “You may attend safely. I would not have offered if there was risk. But, it might perhaps be better for you to remain at a distance from the actual site.”

Harry shrugged. “All right then, we’ll do that.” Luna nodded and Neville smiled. 

With that settled, Ragnok called for Griphook, Goslok, and Cursebreaking Team Urguld. Harry, Neville, and Luna stood behind a screen until the human members of the team had agreed to being obliviated and signed a statement to their future selves regarding their lack of memory. This was apparently normal goblin practice, and they accepted it with ease. With that accomplished, the entire group apparated out of the bank to the graveyard of Little Hangleton. Harry shivered, and Luna took his hand. 

The small group walked toward the Gaunt shack, but stopped where the path met the road, and waited while alarms and curses were dismantled. Goslok turned to Harry, Luna, and Neville. “This is a safe space now. You should wait here.” The trio nodded, and the goblins and their team moved forward onto the overgrown path. 

They watched as the goblins began to sing and the wizards began to cast. The magic filled the entire area, and Harry began to feel warm and sleepy. He was wondering what on earth was going on, when his eyes began to close of their own accord. He was pinched sharply awake by Luna. “Harry!” She hissed at him, “They are casting parselmagic, so they can cross the yard without alerting the snakes who guard the property. But you have to stay awake!”

He shook himself and looked sheepishly at his siblings. “Sorry about that. The magic was sleepy.” Luna rolled her eyes, and Neville smacked him upside the back of his head. 

They watched as the singing grew deeper and stronger, when the wizards suddenly stepped forward and began casting, creating a hole in the net of spells, allowing the goblins to step through, and reach the door to the shack. The goblins slipped through the door, as the wizards held the web of spells over the shack. 

The waiting trio stood at the edge of the property and couldn’t see much from inside the house. The light of spells emerged from within, in a spectrum of colors and cacophony of song and loud bangs. Harry was getting especially nervous about having asked this of the goblin team, but with Neville and Luna holding his elbows, he couldn’t run forward to help. He felt stupid that he even tried. 

After about thirty minutes of nervous pacing on the edge of the road, Harry saw a group of goblins emerge from the house, one of them carrying a large box of black metal. He stepped away from the house, and the others turned back to replace the spells and curses around the property. 

Finally, it was done, and the exhausted wizards let the web of protective magics settle into the earth around the house. They all backed carefully away from the house toward the road. 

“My Lords, Lady, your item has been retrieved.” Goslok sounded as though every word was torn from him with effort. Harry knew better than to show sympathy or concern, so he nodded in respect. 

“Goblin Goslok, the goblin nation has our thanks. According to the contract signed this morning, please deliver the item to Gringotts for safekeeping.” 

“It will be done.” Goslok gathered his team, and they apparated back to Gringotts. Harry, Neville, and Luna stayed behind to speak to Ragnok for a short moment. 

“Chieftain, it looked exhausting.” Harry spoke up. 

Ragnok looked at him for signs of pity, but saw only recognition of work accomplished. “So it was. But it was expected.” 

Harry nodded. “Nevertheless, as an expression of gratitude, please deliver a standard fee to each team member.” 

Ragnok nodded. “It will be done.” 

Harry grinned. “See you soon, then, Chieftain. We’ll be at the bank again tomorrow for lessons. Theoretical arithmancy for me and Neville, Goblin Divination for Luna, and then battle simulations for all of us.” 

“I shall see you tomorrow, then, Young Lords, Lady.” Ragnok nodded in farewell. “And perhaps your battle simulations will be more challenging than you expect.” The chieftain smirked at them before popping himself back to the bank. 

The trio looked excited at the news, and apparated back to the Castle to begin strategizing battle scenarios taking their new opponent into account. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is. Thanks for reading. They’ve got their hands on a horcrux/hallow, and are slowly beginning to chip away at the power of both Voldemort and Dumbledore. As to the goblins, I figure that there are some things that are absolute— the price for wizarding services, but for special extra things, they would barter and negotiate a bit. 
> 
> Next chapter title is from Tears for Fears, “Mad World”


	20. I went to school and I was very nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Potters bring their new wards to Hogwarts for placement tests and an interview with the Headmaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of mental health, including PTSD. Seeing the castle again triggers a flashback for Harry.

“I got them!” Luna’s voice echoed down the hall and into the ‘war room’ Harry had established. Her brothers were both in there: Harry obsessing over the list of horcruxes, and Neville working on a research project for his goblin tutor. 

“Who did you get?” Neville’s voice reached her just as she entered the room. Sure enough, they were sitting there just as she had imagined. 

“Not who, what!” She handed necklaces to each of the boys. They were simple chains, wrought of hammered goblin silver, not thin enough to be considered feminine or delicate, but still slight enough to be overlooked most of the time. They were long enough to be hidden by clothing, and carried no other ornament. Simple and powerful, as they were charged by both goblin magic and her own. “Here.” She said, “they’ll repel all mind magics, but without the caster noticing. Dumbledore can even scan our minds, but because of the charms I added, he’ll only come up with innocuous thoughts. He won’t even know he’s being fooled.” 

“We’re not that bad at occlumency.” Harry grumped, putting the chain on anyway. 

“No, you’re not. But these will keep you safe because Dumbledore will never know you’re accomplished at occlumency. He’ll never come up against your mind’s defenses. It’ll also prevent obliviation.” She hummed as she looked up at the board they had. When they had returned from Little Hangleton, Harry had crossed out “shack” from the location column of the ring horcrux, and added Gringotts. It was looking good. 

“Thank you, Lunabelle.” Harry kissed her cheek, and then draped the third chain over her head. She just smiled. 

“Do you think we should get the diadem when we’re there this Thursday?” Neville looked up from his work, interested. Now that they had collected one of the horcruxes, they were all eager to get the job done. Progress had made them feel bolder.

Harry spoke up. He understood how they were feeling, but also recognized the need for caution. “No. We’re going to be there with only a few other people, and we’re going to stand out as the ones who don’t belong. It’ll be difficult to slip away from the Potters, for a start. If we’re caught by any of the teachers, or worse Dumbledore, how would we explain knowing our way around, or the Room, or having the diadem? We’ll need the camouflage of all the other students before we make a move on the diadem.” 

“Do you know what’s going to happen at this meeting?” Neville asked, feeling a bit nervous. The first time he’d been to Hogwarts, his grandmother had handled everything from buying his supplies to packing his trunk, and even sending along his forms without his knowledge. It had not helped his confidence. 

“Nope.” Harry answered. “Uncle Monty mentioned placement tests and an interview, but we’ve got our story planned. Hopefully, it all goes well.” 

“Dumbeldore will be curious about us.” Luna spoke softly. “The war may not be at its worst yet, but it’s been going on for a couple years now, and Dumbledore has been aware of Riddle and trying to control the spread of his influence for decades now.” Luna sat looking dispirited. “If we show the slightest hint at being dark, he’ll start working against us. If we show any sign of being powerful, he will want to control us. If we seem light, he will try to collect us. We must keep him guessing. At this point, I’m fairly sure that he won’t want us close to his chosen ones. He has plans for James, and our position as his cousins will be a threat to those plans. We’ll need to be extremely cautious.” 

“Well, okay. We were always planning to be cautious.” Harry nodded. “Do you know anything about the tests?” 

Luna shook her head. “I’m less worried about those. The interview is the true test” She ran her fingers along the hidden chain now safely tucked under her robes. “We’re going to need these. And we’re going to need to be on guard.” 

“Okay, Sis.” Neville moved to the sofa from his work desk. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “We will be.” 

Harry sat on her other side, and slid his arms around her too. “I know you think we aren’t taking it seriously, but all we can do is be as prepared as possible, and take as few risks as we can. Once we’re there and we know more, we’ll reassess.” 

Luna finally smiled. She was still nervous, but at least they were taking it seriously. Now, she just had to wait till Thursday, and make sure that they all practiced their story as much as possible. 

Thursday arrived and the trio floo’d over to Potter Manor. They greeted all the Potters with smiles and hugs. Euphemia herded them all into her sun room under the guise of some breakfast. 

“Are you all ready for this?” Fleamont looked seriously at the three new Hogwarts students. 

Harry breathed out a sigh, and looked at his grandfather, “I believe so, Sir. It’s a bit like walking into the dragon’s lair, but we’re as prepared as we can be.” 

“Dragon’s lair?” James scoffed. “It’s only a school.” He was the only one who had no idea where the three “cousins” had come from. It was far safer for all of them that way, and Harry had no intention at all of ever revealing his origins to his father. Nevertheless, he grinned at James and asked about classes and teachers to fill the time. 

The whole family floo’d to The Three Broomsticks, where they greeted a very young looking Madam Rosmerta, before making their way up to the Castle. They were met at the gate by Professor McGonagall, who smiled at James and the elder Potters. 

“And who are these that you’re bringing us?” She asked. Her Scottish was much more on display than Harry remembered hearing, but he mentally shrugged. He didn’t know everything about his former head of house. 

“Cousins, of a sort,” answered Fleamont. “This is Harrison, Neville, and Luna Mortis. They’ve become my wards after their father’s death. They’ve mostly been homeschooled, but we all decided that a Hogwarts education would be good for their futures.” Here, he winked at the triplets. “Harry, Nev, Luna, meet your transfiguration professor, Minerva McGonagall.” 

“Hello, Ma’am. Pleased to meet you.” Harry smiled tentatively at the stern looking professor. He felt decidedly strange. He hadn’t spent any time in casual conversation with the woman before, and wasn’t sure how to act. He was trying not to think of the photos he had of her high on catnip. 

“Professor,” Neville smiled. “Our cousin James has written to us about you. He enjoys your lessons.” At this remark, both James and Harry had to control snorts of laughter. Harry elbowed Neville hard in the ribs, as Luna stepped up.

“Hello Professor.” She smiled up at the woman. “I do hope I like transfiguration.”

“I hope so too, young lady.” McGonagall gestured up toward the castle, and fell into step next to James as they walked up the path. “Would you care to tell me more about these letters you wrote home, Mr. Potter?” 

“Just letters about the lessons, Ma’am.” He squeaked. 

Her lips twitched, but all she said was, “Indeed,” and she fell back to walk with the adults. 

Harry was glad that Neville had mentioned the letters home because thinking of McGonagall’s animagus form rolling around the desk and yowling, saved him from remembering the war images. That only lasted till they got past the gates. On the walk up to the castle, he was picturing Hagrid’s hut in flames, bodies littering the yard, crumbling walls, giants, and blood— blood everywhere. He shut his eyes, and screwed the base of his palms into them, in an effort to stop the images, but they kept rolling in. Not now, Potter. He chastised himself. Have a meltdown later, when you’re home, but not now. He felt Luna’s hand around his waist, and his grandfather’s hand grasp his shoulder. 

He lowered his arms and nodded at them. He would keep it together. There was no blood. The people who died hadn’t even been born yet, some of them, the rest were perfectly fine. 

“Son?” He heard his grandfather’s voice, and turned toward it. He didn’t let himself think about his father or his head of house watching on, and let his grandfather's arms wrap him up in safety. 

He took several long, shuddering breaths, and looked up into kind eyes. “Sorry. I’ll be okay now.” He squared his shoulders and turned back to the entrance hall. His hand slipped into Luna’s, and he felt Neville’s solid frame on his other side, but neither of them let on about how badly he was trembling. 

McGonagall looked her questions at Euphemia, who just shook her head, and patted the Scotswoman’s arm. Not being a fool, McGonagall called out, “Mr. Potter, why don’t you lead the way. You’ve been to the headmaster’s office enough times to know it by now.” 

James grinned cheekily at the adults, but nodded, and started a running commentary on the various doorways, hallways, staircases, and paintings lining the wall on the way up to the gargoyle, guarding the headmaster’s office. He was not as foolish or as oblivious as everyone thought he was, but he could tell that Harrison would do better with jokes and normalcy than with concern. He told stories of pranks and trouble, ghosts, Peeves, and detentions as they walked. 

Finally, they approached the guardian, and McGonagall stepped up to offer the password, “Strawberry tarts,” and they all stepped onto the moving stairs up to the round office at the top.

Dumbledore granted them entry, and they settled into overstuffed armchairs, which he conjured for them. “Good morning!” He twinkled at them, and Harry knew enough to smile back up instead of hexing the old man. “Care for a spot of tea?” 

“Headmaster,” McGonagall began, “I would like to introduce you to Harrison” she pointed at each of them in turn, “Luna, and Neville Mortis. Cousins of the Potters and here to register for the fall term.” 

“Hello Headmaster Dumbledore,” Fleamont began. “And thank you, but no tea for me.” The rest of the visitors shook their heads as well. 

“Sorry Headmaster,” Euphemia charmed, “we’ve just put breakfast in them. I’m afraid we’re all still a bit full.” 

“No matter, no matter.” Dumbledore pulled out some parchment, as though to take notes. But he didn’t touch it after doing that much. He folded his hands in front of himself and peered over at the three new teenagers across from him. “Will you tell me a bit about yourselves?” 

Neville spoke up first. “Of course, Sir. I’m Neville. We were homeschooled before this, so we’re excited to be at Hogwarts now. I’ve always been fairly good with Herbology. Defense is Harrison’s best subject, and Luna is good at just about everything, except potions. She’s never been able to manage well enough for our tutors there.” He shrugged, as though to apologize to his sister for revealing a secret. The truth was that they didn’t want Luna’s name connected to divination in the headmaster’s mind.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem, I’m sure.” Dumbledore smiled kindly at the vague looking blonde. “We all have good and bad subjects. I myself struggled with charms for a time.” He said this as though revealing a deep secret. 

Luna smiled up at him. She knew that he was scanning her memories, and she also knew that the chain around her neck meant that he was only seeing her blowing up cauldrons and creating messes in the lab. 

“So,” Dumbledore began again. “Do you know your level in school? What year we should place you?” 

“No sir.” Harrison spoke up this time. “We’ve only had tutors who taught us at our own pace. But we’ll be fifteen in July, if that helps.” 

“Well, that would place you in the same year as your cousin,” Dumbeldore was smiling outwardly, but his mind was whirling with the possibilities. They would have access to his James, his precious little idiot. He wondered whether this would be a good or a bad thing, and moved his gaze and mind scan to focus on Harrison instead. “But I suppose we’ll let the placement tests decide. You are all ready to sit them today?” 

“Yes Sir.” Came the reply. 

“So, Fleamont, how are these your cousins? I don’t recall your having any other relations.” He needed to know the history here. What sort of influences would he be letting into his school, and where did they come from? He knew James was the heir. That was the important part, but could these relatives be thinking of interfering in his plans?

”My Uncle is the connection, actually. You must remember Charlus? I believe he was a contemporary of yours.” Dumbledore nodded. “Well, his daughter, my cousin Carlotta married Ambrus Mortis, Lord Mors. These are their children.” Dumbledore planned on verifying all that information at Gringotts. The goblins may have been unpleasant, but they did keep excellent records. He asked McGonagall to note down their names in the Magic Book, and then ensure they got their letters with the exam results sent over the summer holidays. 

“Naturally, Headmaster,” came the curt reply. She had been doing his job and hers for many years now. 

“Very well,” he beamed a smile at them. “Then, I shall let you crack on! And best of luck to all of you.” He ushered them out of the office. As he saw them onto the stairs, his mask of genial old man fell off his face, and a troubled look replaced it. Those three. There was something about them, something wrong. Triplets always spelled trouble. And the power reserves in the dark one staggered him. He wanted that power; even at a distance, it flickered over his skin like delicious little tongues of fire. He’d have to watch closely. Very closely, indeed. Power must always be carefully controlled, for the greater good, of course. He wondered how they would be sorted, and whether he should nudge the hat along or not. 

As Professor McGonagall took them into her classroom, she motioned for the three new students to have a seat. “As Mr Potter no doubt told you in his letters about the school,” she smirked at her favorite student, “our core classes are Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, History of Magic, and Astronomy. We offer elective courses at third year, which include Care of Magical Creatures, the Study of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, and Divination.” A small frown thinned her lips at that, “These are the subjects for which all students will sit their OWL examinations. In fifth year, students may choose to add Alchemy or Ancient Studies. The courses are introductory level during fifth year and only in sixth and seventh do they become more rigorous. This is not an excuse to avoid working on them, however. In sixth and seventh years, students may choose to continue with any subjects in which they earned the appropriate OWL score, as well as those two new courses. In seventh year, students will sit their NEWT examinations, and may choose to sit an OWL in alchemy or ancient studies. You, therefore, will need to fill in placement exams in the core classes, and any you wish to add as electives.” 

She handed the three of them their core exams, and gave them time to consider elective courses. Luckily the exams were not extensive, just several questions at each year level to assess current knowledge. “Have you decided upon elective courses?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Harry spoke first. “I’d like to take Care, Runes, and Arithmancy. I’d also like to join the Alchemy class.” 

“That’ll be quite the course load, Mr. Mortis. Are you certain?”

Harry thought of time turners and former best friends, and a frown line creased his brow. He’d suspected that the special permission had been a set-up. “Yes, Ma’am. I’d like to try at least.”

“Very well” She added the extra pages to his exam pile, then turned to Luna. “Have you decided as well?” 

“I’d like to test into Care and Divination. And I’d like to sign up for Ancient Studies.” 

McGonagall pursed her lips, and silently handed Luna two more pages to fill in. 

Neville spoke up as well, “I’ll test on Care and Muggle studies, please. And sign up for Ancient studies. I do better on theoretical and passive magics anyway.” He blushed as he explained this. “But I’m not bad at charms.” 

“Glad to hear it, Mr. Mortis.” She gave Neville his extra work. “You have until twelve to fill these in. Then, you are all invited for lunch in the Great Hall, and we will finish with a short tour of the castle.” She set up a silencing charm around the three who would be testing into their various subjects, not only to ensure there was no sharing of answers, but to avoid distractions. She looked over to James, “I believe Hagrid has just taken in a wounded crup, if you are interested, Mr. Potter.” 

“Wow!” James looked very interested. “What happened to it?” 

“I do not know. I let him know you would be here at breakfast this morning, and he said he would welcome your company, if you wish to join him.” James shot out of the room. He could tell that his professor wanted him out of the way, but he’d rather visit Hagrid than sit around watching his cousins take test after test anyway. Two secret passages and a jumped staircase later, he was pelting across the grounds toward Hagrid’s. 

“Now,” Minerva turned to the elder Potters. “Tell me, Effie. What happened to these three?”

And so, the story they had agreed upon came out. The long lost relatives, the death in childbirth. The distraught father, who sent his eldest to be fostered, only to later find out that the household was abusive in the worst ways. The second born gone to an emotionally distant grandmother, who allowed horrific things in the name of startling out his magic. The “baby” and only girl of the family kept at home by a grieving father who alternated between excessively doting and forgetting her existence. 

“The poor wee bairns.” Minerva was appalled by their treatment. “They were kept from each other?” 

“Indeed. Most of their childhood was spent in separate but horrible conditions.” Euphemia nodded, and patted her old friend’s arm in sympathy and agreement. “Now they’re a strange blend of incredibly self-sufficient, and utterly dependent on each other,” she shook her head in affectionate worry. “They don’t let many into their circle of trusted people, but if they do, they are fiercely protective. They’ve been alone for so long, I’m not sure how well they’ll do surrounded by the other students.” 

Fleamont nodded. “It will be an adjustment. Particularly if they end up in different houses. But they are resilient. Harrison especially. He had to be, growing up the way he did.”

“That bad?” Minerva looked aghast. 

Fleamont nodded slowly. “You saw him out front. He has flashbacks from time to time. They are all three visiting a mind healer, for various reasons. I won’t divulge their secrets, but the accident that caused their father’s death left them all struggling with PTSD.” 

“Petey Estie?” The transfiguration professor wasn’t familiar with the term. 

“Don’t worry, Minnie,” Effie patted her arm again. “I didn’t know what it meant either. It stands for ‘post traumatic stress disorder.’” Minerva blushed and readjusted her thinking. “The main thing is that they each have triggers. Someone may say or do something that leaves them feeling that the trauma is occurring again. It may take a moment or two for them to realize that they are safe. And they have nightmares, of course.” 

“Oh dear.” Minerva looked at the three again with new eyes. These were not children, they were survivors. “Are they truly okay to be at school?” 

“Oh yes!” Effie smiled. “Most of the time they are perfectly happy. They’ve met James’s group of friends and had no problems. They’re very studious. They came to us in January, you know. They didn’t want to disrupt the school year, but they didn’t want to fall behind either, so they attended lessons with the goblins. I’ve been so impressed, I’ve been sending James too. He’s balking at the culture and language lessons, says he wants to learn the ‘fun stuff.’” Effie rolled her eyes, “But that’s my boy. He’ll get there eventually.” 

Minerva swallowed. James Potter voluntarily taking lessons over the summer? Had the world gone sideways? 

Once Harry, Luna, and Neville had finished up their exams, they joined Professor McGonagall on the way to the Great Hall. Harry knew this would be difficult for all three of them. The last time they’d seen it, it had been full of dead bodies. He shared a glance with his siblings and they all visibly firmed their resolve. “We’ll get through it.” Luna murmured just loud enough for Harry and Neville to hear her. 

Neville nodded, “We hold each other up.”

Harry just clung to his siblings and tried to keep a grip on reality. Why was he doing this to himself again? He must be insane. But the thought of leaving his parents, his godfather, Remus, Severus, even Peter, in the hands of Voldemort and Dumbledore was too much. He wouldn’t do that, even if he had to grit his teeth and wade through more blood. 

“How do you think you managed on the placements?” He asked, determined to talk about something normal. 

Neville shrugged, “Dunno. I knew some stuff, I guess. I hope we all make it into Care. It’ll be good to have an elective where we’re all together.” 

Luna smiled. “I think we’ll be fine. I was aiming for fifth year, which is actually the last year I managed before the world fell apart. I think I made it.” 

“Yeah,” Harry snorted. “None of us had a normal education, last year, did we?” 

Neville smiled. “I was glad of the DA, though, Harry. I think I did okay on the defense paper.” 

“Me too.” Luna also grinned at him. “It was good to remember.” 

They continued a quiet conversation about the various subject results all the way into the great hall and up to the staff table. With so many teachers gone for the summer holidays, there was plenty of room. They found James, who had been herded back into the castle and away from the crup by Hagrid. 

The discussion on their end of the table centered around Hagrid’s various creatures, including the thestral herd, his new puppy Snarl, and the hippogriff herd he was raising in the forest. Harry, who was trying his best to not think about seeing Remus and Tonks laid out on the table, just there, started asking more about the hippogriffs, and his questions were intelligent enough to draw the attention of Professor Kettleburn. 

“Very interesting, young man,” he leaned over the gap between his seat and Hagrid’s. “Actually, the proud attitude is in part a defensive mechanism of the species. Historically, they were bred for such unsavory ‘sporting events’ as baitings and even fights. The more haughty attitudes and proud demeanors often resulted in time for other members of the herd to either escape or counter violent and unscrupulous handlers.” 

“That’s fascinating, Professor.” Luna replied, “I wonder if the behavior is similar in humans. I know some very proud people who may just have been striking out as a defense.” 

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, as Neville coughed out “Malfoy” in an undertone. Luckily this went unnoticed by their fellow diners. 

Professor Kettleburn sent a sharp look at Luna, and murmured, “Perhaps that is so. We should always look beyond the surface, don’t you think?” Luna just nodded and turned back to her potatoes. 

After lunch, they took a quick tour of the school, including the library, quidditch pitch, and greenhouses, and then departed, floo’ing back to Potter Manor for a quiet afternoon tea time, during which James requested help on a project for his goblin tutor. As James and Neville settled in a corner of the great room to work on translating some gobbledegook, Harry sat with his grandparents and Luna. 

“Uncle Monty, Aunt Effie, we’d like to ask you something,” he began. “We, um, that is, Neville, Luna, and I, we wanted to invite you to go on a holiday with us. Nothing fancy or extravagant, we wanted to visit the seaside, so we were thinking of Brighton. It’s mostly muggle, you know, but there’s a lovely garden, and lots of coast.” His voice faded away. “If you were interested.” 

“Well,” Euphemia looked at her husband and smiled, “I think that sounds lovely dear. We’ve never been in the muggle world, not really, but we trust you.” 

Harry’s eyes jumped up to meet his grandmother’s. “Really? You’ll come? Um, I mean, I’m glad.” He grinned. “And James’ friends, too, if their parents say it’s okay?” 

Fleamont chuckled. “We’ll have to ask them. And I think we’ll have to take a shopping trip before we go. We’ll need to look like proper muggles on a summer holiday!” 

James perked up from across the room, “A summer holiday?” 

“Yes, son.” Euphemia smiled over at him. “We’ve been invited to join Harry, Luna, and Neville on a summer holiday at the muggle seaside. Along with your friends, if they can talk their parents into giving permission.”

James grinned and whooped. “Can I floo Sirius and ask?” 

“I think it would be better if I floo’d Lord Black to ask. You may send an owl, informing your friends.” Fleamont tried to repress his irrepressible son. 

“Thanks!” Harry was suddenly engulfed in a hug from his father, before the fifteen year old bounded out of the room, goblin lessons forgotten in the glow of a muggle seaside holiday with his friends. 

Harry looked absolutely gobsmacked. His father. His father had hugged him. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words made it through his lips. He closed his mouth, and looked up at Euphemia. She smiled kindly. “He’s a fireball. You’ll have to get used to it, I’m afraid. When he’s happy, the whole world knows about it.”

“He hugged me.” Harry was still thinking about it as he floo’d back to the castle that night, and went to bed smiling. His father might be an immature idiot ninety percent of the time, but he’d hugged Harry for the first time that Harry could remember. He wrapped his happiness around him as he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I have never experienced flashbacks or PTSD myself, so I’m not sure my description is accurate. I tried to handle it with respect and compassion, and within the characters and the reality of the story. If you have advice on how I might improve, and feel comfortable sharing it, I’d be glad to hear it. 
> 
> Next chapter title is from Simon and Garfunkel, “Homeward Bound”


	21. Got a ticket for my destination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triplets and the Potters and Sirius go on holiday. Because everybody needs a break, and summer is good for holidays. This is pure fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Sirry, who likes reading about the connections between the Potters and the triplets. This was already written, but I do hope you like it.

Harry had been prepared for many things to be quite different upon landing nearly 25 years in the past, but the sight of his grandfather, Lord Fleamont Davis Potter, potions master, inventor, and father, sporting bell bottom denim flares and a button down covered in flowers was too much for him. 

“Well, Harry?” Fleamont grinned at him, “do I look muggle enough?” 

“Yes sir.” Harry tried to hold back his laughter, but it was a challenge, especially when he saw his grandmother, usually stately in robes of dusty blue or sage green, wearing a long flowered skirt and an embroidered peasant blouse. “Aunt Effie, Uncle Monty, you both look wonderful.” He squeaked and tried to catch his breath. 

He’d completely forgotten that the 1970s would naturally have different fashions than he was used to. Wizarding fashions hadn’t changed since the medieval times, so it really just hadn’t crossed his mind much. He, Luna, and Neville were also wearing muggle fashions, but they were a bit less, uh, fashionable. He supposed. Luna wore a short flowing skirt over tie dyed tights, and short sleeved blouse covered in ruffles. All in all, she looked like her usual eccentric, colorful self. Neville and he had opted for jeans, but his were black. They both had on tee shirts, Neville’s was a plain white, and his was also mostly white, but had a band’s logo on it. He was also wearing his Doc Martens, glad that they had made the trip back in time with him. He missed his leather jacket, but supposed it wasn’t ideal for a seaside holiday. 

They had invited all the marauders to join them for the holiday, but Peter’s mother had insisted on keeping him home for a family event, and Remus’ father made an excuse about a relative’s ill health. Harry supposed he was concerned about the approaching moon. Sirius, however, would be joining them. Lord Potter had successfully talked Lord Black around to allowing his son to spend the remaining holiday time with them. James and Sirius were ecstatic. Two weeks in each other’s company in the muggle world at a seaside town full of entertainment and girls in bikinis sounded like paradise. Sirius in particular had been strutting around like an idiot all morning. 

Eventually, they were all ready to leave, and gathered around the floo. They planned to floo into the Leaky Cauldron before making their way to King’s Cross by muggle bus. Harry had already looked up the schedule. Their train left at 10:25, and they were about twenty minutes early into the station. 

Fleamont and Neville spent time deciphering the departures board to learn which platform their train would leave from, while Harry, James, and Sirius visited a small stand to collect some snacks and fizzy drinks for the trip. Soon, they were all on board their train, and watching the countryside fly past on their way to Brighton. 

When they arrived, it was difficult to hold James and Sirius back from immediately running off to enjoy the delights of the muggle world, namely muggle girls and junk food. They arrived at the Grand Brighton Hotel, where Harry had booked three rooms on the penthouse level. He gave the name Mortis, and the group was shown upstairs. Harry had arranged for a pair of suites; one for the elder Potters, one for Neville, Luna, and himself, and a double room for James and Sirius to share. He and Neville and Luna were well used to one another, but the suite afforded a degree of privacy that they would all appreciate. The rooms all came with sea-view balconies, and they were all quite happily enjoying the fresh clean air and marvelous views. Of course, Potter manor had plenty of sea views, but Brighton had a town full of muggles to observe, so they enjoyed the slight change of scene.

Family meetings happened over breakfast in the sitting room of Lord and Lady Potter’s suite, and they planned the day’s activities. At first, Euphemia was rather concerned at letting James and Sirius go off on their own without supervision, but soon relaxed as Harry usually accompanied them. If anything were to happen, Harry would be able to diffuse the situation. Most days, they spent the morning together anyway, seeing different sights or just sitting together at the seaside. After a family lunch (muggle food was fascinating), they would split into various different pursuits, meeting back at the hotel for supper. 

One morning, Fleamont found himself seated in a contraption called Volt’s Electric Railway, for the shortest train ride of his life. He did like seeing the inventor’s offices, and it made electricity far more understandable than the muggle studies lessons he had endured as a child. He urged his son to pay attention to the various explanations, as well. As they wandered back through the colorful crowd of muggles, Fleamont walked next to Harry, and pulled him close, an arm around his grandson’s shoulders. “Thank you, Harrison,” he said lowly. “We would never have visited the muggle world on our own. It’s been enlightening.”

Harry grinned up at him. “I spent a lot of time listening to Henry and Ralston debating about muggles and muggle involvement, but neither of them had actually spent much time around them. I think, before we decide one way or another, we need to know, maybe not everything, that’s impossible, but as much as we can, anyway. Some things are easier to learn if you experience them.” He shrugged. “I’ve lived in the muggle world, but I never really saw much more than my aunt and uncle’s house.”

Fleamont gave his shoulders a squeeze and let him go. “We’re all learning together, then,” he replied. 

They enjoyed lunch from an Indian take away, that day, and sat on a blanket in the park with cartons and plastic forks, exclaiming about how delicious and how spicy the food was. The afternoon was spent at the Penny arcade, for Harry, James, and Sirius, and a return to the Pavilion’s gardens for Neville, Luna, and the Potters. 

Harry watched, smiling faintly, as his teenaged father and godfather, argued over who was better at playing on the pinball machine. He loved watching them be alive and happy. Neither of them got to grow up, not really. Sirius grew older, but between Azkaban, being on the run, and the war, he’d never had the chance to be an adult. Harry promised himself he’d see both of them grow up this time around. They’d never be the men he knew of, but that was okay. 

Sirius let go of the pinball paddles, having lost his third game, and turned to Harrison. “Think you can give it a go?” 

Harry smirked, “I can try.” He took his place, and the other two boys leaned over the table to watch. Harry swelled his magic out beyond himself and into the machine, hoping that it wouldn’t affect the electricity. He had a bit of trouble controlling the sparks, but his animagus form was surprisingly helpful, accepting them as part of an electrical storm. He grinned up at James and Sirius, “Game on.” He was able to direct and control the small ball, sending it careening this way and that, spinning just so much, but not too much, the paddles were inconsequential. He kept the ball in motion, using just enough magic to keep it in play as long as possible. Once he had passed the high score mark, he realized he had attracted quite a crowd, and with one last tap sent the ball around again, before finally allowing it to drop through the paddles and out of play. 

He smirked up at his ‘cousins,’ “Did I do okay, then?” They both laughed and each of them slung an arm around his shoulders, directing him to the center of the room. The grins they were wearing were infectious, and he loved feeling them on either side of him, breathing, alive, and happy. 

Later, of course, he had to explain to them what he had done. They were eating ice cream cones and walking along the pier, “I just swelled out my magic, it wasn’t a spell.” 

“But how come the electricity still worked?” James asked. “It’s not supposed to!” 

“Ah.” Harry hemmed a bit. “Well, I might have cheated just a bit.”

Sirius’ had a sly look on his face as his eyebrows went wiggling, “Is that so? How, pray tell, did you cheat just a bit?” 

“Well, I found my magical animagus a while back, and it helped me control the electricity.” 

“That’s far out. Very far out.” Sirius grinned. “What’s your animal then?” 

Harry grinned. Sirius was going to love this. “Thunderbird.” 

“No way!” James and Sirius looked impressed. Harry was loving the attention, but grew distracted by a group of older teenagers who were closing in on them. 

“Um, guys, I think, maybe, we caught the wrong sort of attention.” He nodded toward the group. “We should get going.” 

“Oi! You lot!” The leader of the boys yelled at them. Harry didn’t want to turn, but had no real choice. He had learned young not to show his back to an enemy. 

“What’s the problem?” He began, carefully. He knew he could handle these boys even without magic, but he was worried that James or Sirius might either get hurt or start throwing curses. “We don’t want trouble.” 

“Should have thought of that before you destroyed the record, shouldn’t you?” Came the answer. Harry couldn’t believe the level of pettiness. This buffoon was worse than Dudley and Piers put together. 

“Thought that’s what a record was for.” Harry shrugged. “No magic” he hissed, low enough so that only James and Sirius could hear him. He allowed the larger boys to close in, and throw the first punch. Unfortunately, it caught him in the side of his face and broke his glasses, but he responded with a mixed form of Asian and Brazilian martial arts, which the goblins had taught him, and put all four of the older boys down on the ground panting and groaning. “You are idiots,” he ranted at them. “You wanted to beat up a fifteen year old, who is smaller than you, four on one” he ignored the yells from James and Sirius over this, “over a game? You could be taken up by the police for this. Instead, you’re going to need some medical attention because you didn’t realize that smaller doesn’t mean weaker and younger doesn’t mean foolish. You were upset by a game? There’s no cash prize involved, no glory, no fame, it’s just a game, with a new number up as a high score. What are you doing with your lives that this is how you spend your time?” 

He felt James’ arms wrap around him from behind and start to pull him away. “Come on, Harrison. We don’t need more attention right now. If my parents find out,” he trailed away, not really worried about his mum or dad finding out about the fight, but needing a good excuse to get Harrison away from the moaning older boys before anyone saw them. 

But Harry wasn’t done, he whirled away from them and turned back to the boys, “You’re nothing more than bullies, you absolute trash. You will never amount to anything because you blame others for your own inadequacies rather than trying to better yourselves.” 

At that point, the small crowd that had gathered around them broke into applause. Harry pulled away from James, and marched back down the pier. James and Sirius shared a look and then followed quickly. An hour later, they were still silent, and sitting on the cement guard between the street and the beach. Harry was fuming, James and Sirius were in awe.

“Harrison,” Sirius began quietly. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” 

“Hmm?” Harry looked away from the water for a moment. “Oh, combination of the goblins and my cousin.” 

“Your cousin?” James was confused. “What cousin?” 

“Oh.” Shit. Had he really said that? “Other side of the family. Not worth talking about.” Harry shrugged, that was true enough. 

James was still confused, but nodded. “And he taught you to fight like that?” 

Harry snorted. “Not exactly. He taught me how utterly useless bullies are, and that if you don’t stand up to them, you’ll be running forever.” 

Sirius looked over at Harrison. His eye was beginning to blacken, and his glasses were still cracked. “Come on, we should get back and let Effie fuss over your eye. Someone will need to reparo your glasses, too.” 

“All right.” Harry swung around to stand, and felt the ache in his face for the first time since the fight. “Yeah, that stings a bit.” He poked carefully at the forming bruise, and stretched out his jaw. “Let’s go.” 

“So, you’re like a fighting expert, a thunderbird animagus, and a pinball king?” James teased. “Anything else we should know?” 

Harry started to laugh. He shook his head at the other two, and grinned. “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.” 

The threesome returned to the hotel in reasonably good spirits and were scolded by Euphemia and Neville as Luna dabbed bruise cream on his cheek. 

They spent the day after the fight all together as a family, and visited the Pavilion as Neville wanted to do some surreptitious plant gathering, and brought along a box, specially spelled with gardening, preservation, and shrinking charms. As they wandered the paths, he would occasionally step away from the group or behind some large bushes, and kneel down to collect something. By the end of the visit, his hands were filthy, but his smile was big. 

Euphemia was particularly curious about his discoveries. And they spent lunch discussing the various properties of the new plants, and his plans for expanding the castle greenhouses. “There’s not a lot of research done in growing muggle plants in a magical environment,” he was explaining to Euphemia and Fleamont. “I’m curious about different types of fertilizers and plant food, as well.” Neville was in his element, and had found a kindred spirit, as Euphemia also loved her gardens. 

Fleamont, Luna and Harry were discussing the possibilities of antique shopping in the area. Luna mentioned an open air market and they decided to give it a try later in the afternoon. Sure enough, they lost Fleamont in an antique furniture shop. Harry disappeared in a rare book shop. Neville, Sirius, and James found a sweet shop to load up in, and Luna and Euphemia wandered happily through handmade soaps and lotions in a parfumerie. They returned to the hotel that evening loaded with shopping and smiling broadly. 

The last full day of their holiday dawned bright and clear, and they decided to spend most of it at the sea. They all changed into swimwear and packed up towels and blankets and walked down to the beach. It was a slow, lazy day to spend relaxing with family. Harry allowed the waves and the sun to lull him to sleep, and spent most of the day dozing in and out, though he did wade into the sea as far as his hips. Once the water threatened to tip him over, though, he backed out again and let the sun dry him off. 

James and Sirius loved the water. The spent half the morning splashing each other, and Neville and Harry, once they were near enough. They raced up and down the beach, causing trouble and then charming their way out of it. At one point, Sirius was standing in the water, and James was standing on Sirius’ shoulders, before jumping and flipping off into a dive, drenching everyone in the vicinity. The other beach-goers soon learned to avoid the two rambunctious boys. 

Luna spent most of the day convincing Neville to go hunting with her for magical water dwelling creatures, and was quite happy turning over rocks and examining the pier supports. 

After dinner, which they enjoyed at the hotel restaurant, Harry surprised everyone with tickets to a concert. He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw the poster advertising the event, even more so when he was able to purchase tickets. He knew enough about muggle history and muggle rock and roll to know that this event was not one to miss. He knew they’d love it. 

“Uncle Monty, I have a surprise for everyone tonight,” Harry grinned up at him. “But if you and Aunt Effie don’t care to join us, I will completely understand. There’s a concert at the Dome, and well, the band is world class, but it is muggle rock and roll, which is quite loud and raucous,” he hesitated. “If you decide to stay back at the hotel or do something else, you will not hurt my feelings at all. Even if you decide to go but leave early.” He smiled at the elder Potters, already knowing what they would choose to do. 

“Oh, I think we are still spry enough to enjoy a concert, but if it does get uncomfortable, we’ll duck out, and trust you all to behave yourselves” Fleamont shot a glance at his son and the Black heir. “Watch out for each other, and get back to the hotel safely.” Harry nodded, understanding his grandfather’s worries. 

“Of course, sir. I’m glad you’ll give it a try!” He smiled at his grandparents. They may have had their child later in life, but they were not anything like the typical older generations he had met. 

Sirius was practically bouncing in his seat, “Who are we going to see?” 

Harry grinned. “Queen. Their new album is called ‘Night at the Opera.’ It’s unbelievably amazing. You’ll love it.” 

“Opera?” Sirius deflated completely, and James looked like someone had taken away his birthday. 

Harry shot a look at both of them, “Are you saying you don’t trust the pinball king and his impeccable taste in music?” 

“Well, yeah, but, Harrison. Opera?” James looked morose. 

Harry just grinned wider. “Uncle Monty, you’ll want your flares and that excellent shirt, for this!” He winked. Those two were going to change their tune right quick. He started humming Bohemian Rhapsody as he left the room to get dressed for the concert. 

Sure enough, Fleamont and Euphemia left sometime after “Killer Queen” which was longer than Harry had thought they would last. Freddie Mercury was on point, and Brian May slashed his way through Brighton Rock’s solo leaving Sirius’ mouth agape. Harry just relaxed and let the music carry him away from all his problems. Neville, who had never heard muggle rock and roll before, let alone Queen, spent a few moments comparing this to Celestina Warbeck, before also abandoning himself to the music. Luna was dancing happily with James and Neville. Sirius ended up smelling suspiciously like a certain muggle plant, but all in all, there were worse things that could happen. Harry felt like the evening was a total success, and herded all his charges, stumbling and still singing, through the streets back to the hotel in the wee hours of the morning. 

The next morning after packing up and finding the train back to King’s Cross, Harrison fell asleep, leaning up against Sirius, smiling peacefully. Fleamont looked over at James, who was drooling slightly, leaning on his mother, and then over to Luna, who was resting, supported by Neville’s shoulder. Neville was still awake, and Fleamont murmured, “why don’t you get some rest as well, Neville?” 

Neville smiled at his surrogate uncle. “Maybe soon, Sir. I’m just enjoying the calm, at the moment.” 

“Not too many calm moments for you?” 

“No, Sir.” Neville sighed. “Not too many,” he kept his voice very low. “I shared a dormitory with him for six years, and for six years he had nightmares four nights of five. The screaming, sweating, horrible kind of nightmares.” Neville shook his head. “It’s good to see him sleep with a smile on his face.” 

Fleamont also looked over at Harry, and smiled sadly. “I’m so sorry for what you three had to go through before you got here, Son.” He turned back to Neville. “I know you don’t need me.” He raised a hand to stave off the argument, “No, I know. You’re all plenty self-sufficient and capable. And I know you’re working on a plan of some kind. That’s fine, it’s expected. But you remember that Fifi and are here for you. You and Luna are just as much mine as Harry or James. You remember that we care about you, and we want to help. Just say the word,” he finshed quietly, “because I know Harry won’t.” 

Neville snorted. “No, probably not. But I will, Sir. When we need you, I’ll let you know.” The two shook hands on the bargain, and for the first time in a very long time, Neville felt as though he knew an adult he could trust. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it may seem frivolous to include a holiday, but I like fluff, so here you go. And there are a few key plot things happening here— introducing the Potters to the muggle world will be important, as will the blending of electronics with magic. Neither is going to come up soon, but they will make an appearance. So, mostly fluff, with a few good reasons to include it. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Next chapter title comes from The Clash “Lost in the Supermarket”


	22. I came in here for the special offer: a guaranteed personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School shopping with the Marauders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: non-descriptive porn viewing & mild marijuana use. If that bothers you, *spoiler ahead* skip the paragraphs in which James and Sirius provide birthday gifts.

The remaining weeks of the summer holidays passed swiftly. The Potters organized a birthday party for the triplets, and invited all the marauders. It went rather well, considering that none of them had actually had a proper birthday party before. Neville’s grandmother had arranged birthday tea parties, and invited her own friends to join them. It resulted in uncomfortable and awkward afternoons that Neville would have been happier skipping out on. Luna’s father more often forgot her birthday than remembered it. Occasionally, Ginny would visit, but her father was strange enough that the Weasleys didn’t really trust him with their only daughter too often. Harry’s solitary midnight birthday celebrations were hardly worth mentioning. 

Nevertheless, unusual as it was, they muddled through the singing and the cake, but when it came to the presents, things got, well, interesting. Remus and Peter, neither knowing the triplets very well, had decided to bring sweets, which were happily shared out and enjoyed. Fleamont had given each of them a portkey charm in the shape of the Potter coat of arms, to be added to their protective chains. These were very gratefully received. Even in their own families, the three had always felt like outsiders. Having a symbol of the family and an open invitation to arrive gave each of them a feeling of intense belonging. Harry beamed at his grandfather as he slipped the charm onto his chain. Euphemia gave them each an enhanced letter box, paired to one at the manor, so as to easily communicate, even when at school. They worked both directions, and the sender would only need to drop the letter into the box, and it would appear in the paired box. They were very useful and much appreciated gifts. 

James and Sirius, however, refused to give their gifts in ‘mixed company,’ and so waited till the adults were out of the room. Harry rolled his eyes over the muggle playing cards with dirty pictures on them. He really had no interest in what the well-endowed young ladies were offering, but smirked and thanked his father all the same. He never would have guessed that his first pictures of naked women would come from his oblivious and teenaged parent. Neville’s eyes fell out of his head when he opened his pack of cards. He’d seen the magazines that Seamus and Dean shared back and forth in the dormitory, but he’d thought it would be disrespectful to look at them himself. He had grown up sheltered in an odd way. His family disapproved of everything, and he hadn’t wanted to risk earning more disapprobation over something as trivial as pornography. Then, there had been the war, and such things were just not important. Luna got a similar pack of cards, but hers were full of well-muscled and heavily oiled men. She smiled at James, thanked him, and then performed a switching spell on Harry’s pack, so he too could ogle the bulging shiny biceps. He winked at her with a grin. That was more like it! 

“I found them when we were in Brighton.” James grinned, completely oblivious to the switch Luna had performed. “Had to avoid mum seeing them once we got back to the hotel, though.” A round of giggles from the marauders. Harry rather thought his grandmother wouldn’t mind a set, and wondered if he could special order them for her. 

Sirius had provided tee shirts from the concert they had attended, and that wasn’t all. “The second half of my pressie will have to be enjoyed outside. Let’s go, friends.” And they all trooped out onto the balcony outside of James’ bedroom, where Sirius brought out a stash of marijuana, carefully rolled into joints, which he taught them how to smoke. All in all, it could have been a much worse birthday, Harry thought, as he passed the joint to Neville, who was wondering what might happen if he were to grow some weed under magical conditions. 

But then, the second week of August brought with it Hogwarts letters. Harry, Neville, and Luna were happy to learn that they had succeeded in their placement exams and were to join the rest of their age group in fifth year. They had even tested well into their elective courses. They decided to use the communication boxes Effie had given them to make arrangements with the Potters and the Marauders to visit Diagon Alley. 

Rather than gathering at the manor, they met in the mid-morning for a late cup of tea at the Leaky Cauldron, and then stepped through the brick wall into Diagon proper. Although Harry, Luna, and Neville had been spending most of their time at the bank, they had not been seen much in the shops or the alley, preferring to floo into Gringotts directly. They were, therefore, something of a curiosity as they walked along the avenue chatting quietly with the Potters and their friends. Most of the shopkeepers knew James and his friends by reputation, if not in person, and Fleamont and Euphemia had long been respected members of the community. Of course, the gossip about the three strange teenagers would soon make the rounds of the shops and the regulars. 

They stopped first in Madam Malkins, as the triplets would need uniform robes, and Sirius had grown rather too tall for his to fit for another year. The Pendragon elves had talent for making clothing but only Madam Malkin’s could make the school robes. The seamstress kept up a steady stream of conversation as she worked on them one by one. Harry liked the friendly witch from his very first trip into Diagon at eleven years old. He had no doubt she had recognized him as ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ as every single person he encountered had done. Well, save Malfoy, anyway. Nevertheless, she had treated him just as one more customer, and had saved him from having to give away his surname when Malfoy had asked in that snotty voice. He liked being ordinary, and she had given him that for the first time in his life. He decided to ask her about a few additional robes and trousers for casual wear. Oh, he wasn’t giving up his muggle clothing, and definitely wanted to do more shopping on the other side of the Leaky, but he could give her more business and get himself some well made alternatives to his uniform. The elves wouldn’t mind. Once they had been stuck with pins and measured, they stowed their shrunken purchases in their pockets for the moment. 

Their next stop was at Dervish and Banges for most of their school equipment, and then on to the apothecary, where Fleamont got into a long and heated discussion with Mr. Jiggers, one of the proprietors. They picked up seven sets of ingredients for the fifth year potions class, along with a few extra things. Once they had paid and stowed their packages and were waiting on Fleamont to finish his conversation, Euphemia nudged her husband and whispered that she would take them on to the bookstores. Fleamont nodded distractedly as he continued the longstanding debate over the efficacy of murtlap essence (Fleamont’s position) versus horklump juice (Mr. Jiggers’ position) in certain healing potions. They fell into this debate without hesitation every time they saw each other. The arguments as familiar as old friends. 

“Come on, then” Euphemia urged the teenagers out of the apothecary. “He’ll be along when he wants to be, and it smells too strongly in here for us mere mortals.” 

Harry grinned and followed along to the book shop. Once inside Flourish and Blotts, they wandered the aisles, collecting school books, and one or two that also look interesting. Harry avoided a copy of Beadle the Bard, but spent so long looking through an obscure rune dictionary that he felt obliged to purchase it. Since he arrived in the 70s, Harry had been reading almost every moment that he wasn’t training or plotting to overthrow the two biggest pains in his ass. He’d always found books to be a good retreat; they were the only things that Dudley wouldn’t notice missing from his second bedroom, and he’d always found the library a good hiding place from his cousin’s gang. Once he got to Hogwarts, and Dudley wasn’t there to drive off his friends, he discovered that keeping the peace with Hermione meant not reading as much as she did. However, as he no longer cared about keeping the peace with Hermione, he felt quite free to dump more and more books into his basket. 

“Ugh,” James looked disgusted with him. “Cousin, I thought you were cool! You have more books than Remus!” 

“Is there a problem with Remus? I thought you two were friends.” Harry turned the conversation quickly, and left James feeling confused. 

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with Remus.” James hollered through the bookstore, and was immediately shushed by three different customers. “I just never met anybody who reads more than him.” 

“I’m not trying to compete.” Harry assured his now red faced ‘cousin.’ “I just like to know stuff.” With that, he handed over a copy of “Hexes to Stun your Enemies” and a copy of “How to Enchant: a Guide for Beginners.” 

James’s eyes lit up. “You like pranking?” He whispered. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Pranking, yes. Bullying, no.” He knew only too well what his father would possibly, probably, maybe? But not if he could help it, do that year. He didn’t need James to like Severus, but if he could avoid antagonizing him, it would be better for all concerned. Especially Severus, whom he felt he rather owed, after all the life-saving and spying and explaining the man had done. They had more or less made their peace, the two of them, before he was thrown back into the other man’s adolescence. The least he could do was try to stop the more horrible events of the man’s life. 

“I’m not a bully.” James puffed his chest out. 

Harry shook his head. “When you pull your pranks, who is laughing?”

“What do you mean?” James tilted his head. “We are! Of course, and everyone.” 

“Everyone? What about the one who got pranked? If they’re not laughing too, you’re a bully.” Harry shrugged, and put one of his books back on the shelf. He thought he might have that one at home. 

James fell silent. He didn’t think he was a bully. That was horrible people, like Slytherins, who did things to other people for meanness and cruelty. He just wanted a laugh. And he got them. Harrison didn’t know what he was talking about. He’d see, though. 

They moved on to Scribbulous, to pick up enough parchment, ink, and quills to last the year. Harry considered carefully, but didn’t take as much parchment as the rest of them did. 

Remus leaned over, “Harry, this year, the teachers are going to want longer essays and give out more class notes. It’s OWL year, so they’re going to work us hard. You’ll need more parchment.” 

“Thanks Remus,” Harry smiled at the kindness. “But I’m going to buy a set of muggle exercise books for my work. They’re bound, so it’ll keep the notes organized by subject, and paper is cheaper and more plentiful than parchment. I’m going to get some muggle ballpoint pens, too. Much easier and quicker than quills, and no ink pots to knock over. I’ll use the parchment for my assignments and everything, but my notes will just be for me.” 

Remus’ eyes lit up, as though Harry had just provided the secrets to the universe. “That’s a great idea. I think I will too.” He smiled. “Do you know where to get muggle supplies?” 

“Sure.” Harry nodded. “Do you want to come with me, or I can just get extra and bring them to school for you.” 

“I’ll go along, if that’s okay.” Remus had wanted to visit Brighton and see more of the muggle world. This wasn’t the same, but it would still be an adventure. 

Harry grinned and nodded, and then moved off to pay for his supplies. As they left the stationers, Euphemia consulted the school list. “Now, have you got everything? Let’s see, books, hmm, robes, yes, wands,” she looked up. “Do you need to visit Olivander?”

“No,” Neville smiled at her, “we’ve all got them with us.”

“Then, I think we’re just about finished,” Aunt Effie smiled at the teens around her. “Unless you’re missing something?” 

“I’d like an owl. Do you mind stopping in at the Menagerie or Eyelops?” Neville asked quietly. He cast a glance at Harry, wondering if he would get an owl or not. 

“Of course not, dear, let’s go.” They spent several long minutes in the Magical Menagerie, where Luna picked out a puffskein that quickly grew enamored of her. She named him Sprinkles, with a sly glance at Harry, who sighed in acceptance. So, with Sprinkles perched on her shoulder, they moved on to Eyelops Owl Emporium, as Neville hadn’t found what he was looking for in the menagerie. 

With his heart in his throat, Harry scanned the available owls for silvery white feathers. Hedwig wasn’t there yet, though, so he decided to wait. Neville chose a handsome male barn owl, whom he named Mercury, as he had quite liked the concert, and Mercury was the fast messenger of the gods. He thought it suited. Mercury had a clever face and was soon perched on Neville’s shoulder, watching all of them as they wandered the alley. 

“Alright, then” Euphemia wondered what on earth was taking Fleamont this long. “Is there anything else?” 

“Mum, we want to visit Zonko’s” James whined. 

“I’d like a broom,” Harry said, softly. 

Remus scuffed his feet, “I’d like to go to the sweet shop.” 

Euphemia felt her eyes widen. “Well, then, I suppose I’ll go have a coffee, and when you finish with those important errands, you can come find me at Fortescue’s.” She smiled as the teenagers perked up. 

“Sounds wonderful!” 

“Thanks Mum” 

“See you soon.” 

She wandered over to take a seat and rest her feet for a bit, watching most of them troop off toward Quality Quidditch Supply. She shook her head. Her boys would never grow up, it seemed. She choked on her coffee, as the thought took on a much darker feel in her mind. No, they really wouldn’t, would they? How could she have thought such a thing? She took a deep breath. She had heard what Monty had said to Neville, and supported him in it one hundred percent. They would change things. Their world would not end up the nightmare her grandson had described. 

Inside Quality Quidditch Supply, there was no question in Harry’s mind. He picked up the Nimbus 1500, the newest model Nimbus available, and brought it, along with Seeker’s gloves, and training gear up to the register. 

“All this, Young man?” The man behind the register looked both eager for the sale and skeptical that a teenager would be able to afford it all. 

Harry just grinned, and handed over the card Griphook had given him. “All that.” His name, Harrison Mortis, Lord Mors, was on the card in gold letters, indicating the status of his vaults, and the salesman nodded hurriedly and rang up the sale. Harry grinned at him, asked him to shrink the package, and pocketed it before the Marauders knew he’d been in the shop. Remus was busy flipping through the new edition of “Which Broomstick,” while Sirius and James were considering a new practice snitch. 

Harry walked up behind them and leaned over Sirius’ shoulder to see what they were looking at. “Ooh, who plays Seeker then?” He grinned at them. 

“Neither of us, actually.” James replied. He always took quidditch as seriously as possible. I’m a Chaser, and future captain, once Greunke graduates, Siri plays Beater.” 

Harry smirked, “I’ll just bet.” He waggled his eyebrows over at Sirius. In a singsong teasing voice, he asked, “You good with your bat, there Sirius?” 

“Ah shut it.” He mumbled, all bravado escaping him as a blush covered his cheeks. “Did you get your broom then?” 

“Yep, all set.” 

James looked up, immediately, upon hearing this news. “Which model did you get? What position do you play?” 

Harry looked at his father, calculatingly. “Ah-ah-ah…” He waved his finger at them. “Not till I know we’ll be on the same team. I might be giving away valuable information to the opposition.” He sauntered out of the store, laughing at their gobsmacked faces. 

He wandered over and joined Euphemia and Luna for a coffee, but had his poured over a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Euphemia looked delighted at the new options this opened up for her, and considered ordering her own bowl of ice cream, but decided to just ask for it next time, instead.

“How is everything?” Euphemia asked, carefully. 

Harry took a careful bite of ice cream, and shared a look with Luna. “We’re making progress, but it’s going to be slow going for a while. We have a few, um, items to collect before there can be any kind of confrontation with either of our, well, targets, I suppose is as good a word as any. We’ve got one, but there are more to find.”

Luna looks surprised. It’s more than the other-life Harry would ever have shared with an adult. In general, he did not trust adults. 

“I see,” Euphemia looked thoughtful. “You know where the items are?” Harry looked at her, deep in thought, and Euphemia felt her soul being weighed. She wondered how she would fare in the balance, as she steadfastly met her grandson’s eyes. Finally, he nodded. 

“Some of them.” He spoke quietly but firmly. “Some of them we only know where they eventually will be, and one of them I have my doubts about.” 

Luna looked carefully at him. “Doubts?” 

Harry nodded, but didn’t explain. She sought through what she knew and what she had been told. She wasn’t sure what doubts he might have about any of them, but she knew Harry. If they became important, he would let her know. 

Euphemia watched this with a bemused expression, as she realized how careful they all were with information. She nodded, that was wise. “Harry, are they dangerous to retrieve?” She gave her fears a voice. She loved this boy from the painful horrible future. She wanted to hold him to her and keep him safe, even though she knew she had to let him do what only he knew needed doing. 

“A few of them, yes, there will be danger.” He affirmed. “But, we are pretty dangerous ourselves, you know.” He smiled at her with love in his eyes. Euphemia knew she had his trust, but to see his love was like opening a gift. “If it’s possible, I will let you know before we do anything we know to be dangerous, I promise. And I’ve left a vault to you in my will. Everything we know is in there.” 

“Well, Fleamont, really ought to,” she began but broke off when he shook his head at her. 

“No, Grandmother.” He almost never called her that any longer, and she loved it. “His head is full of potions and his pockets are full of candy and jokes. I love him, but I trust you. You have the will to do what will be needed. Enough for now,” Harry looked up and waved at his grandfather, who was approaching. “Uncle Monty! Did you solve the problem?”

“That man is as stubborn as a hippogriff.” Fleamont sat in a huff. “Where are the boys?”

“Zonko’s or the sweet shop, I think.” Harry answered. The serious mood dissipated in laughter, jokes, and ice cream, especially once Neville and the Marauders joined them. 

After they’d eaten a hearty lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry spoke up, “Remus and I want to visit the muggle world for a few things, if any of you want to come along?” Harry stood and grinned at the werewolf at the table as they were preparing to leave the alley. “That is, if you’re still interested?” 

Euphemia looked over at him, “Well, we’ve left our muggle garments at the manor, but I suppose I can transfigure a few things. What do you need?” 

“We’re going to get some things from a stationers’ shop to help with class notes, and I want a few more bits of muggle clothing for the weekends and such, and for a treat, I thought we’d stop at a muggle book shop I know of,” Harry smiled. “James told me you enjoy reading, and this is one of the best used book stores in all of London!” 

Remus’ eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to go.” 

Luna rolled her eyes, “It means you have to suffer through his muggle clothes addiction.”

“Well, for a bookshop that good, I might not mind.” He smiled at Luna. “Aren’t you coming along, too? You can keep my spirits up during the clothes shopping.” 

Harry shook his head to clear it of wrackspurts. He just wasn’t used to a flirty Remus Lupin. The Lupin he knew was shy, self-effacing, and dependable. He might joke a bit, but mildly and no one got hurt. He was responsible, knowledgeable, and frumpy in his cardigan sweaters. This new Remus who laughed and teased and flirted with his sister? This was an adjustment.

In the end, Fleamont took Neville and Peter back to the manor, and Euphemia transfigured muggle clothes for Luna, Remus, Sirius, James, Harry and herself, and went into muggle London. A quick stop at a stationers had them all equipped with muggle school supplies. Harry now had notebooks, ruled and unruled, along with plenty of pens, a nice set of coloured pencils, several folders, and a clipboard so he could work anywhere. Remus was quite impressed with all the options and filled his own basket as well. Luna picked out enough for herself and Neville to work with, but didn’t go too overboard. She still liked parchment and ink. James and Sirius just looked bored. 

They moved on to clothing shopping, which took rather a while. Harry was determined to find a new leather jacket, and was flipping through tee shirts and denims. He had learned back in the 1990s to take a look around at what he liked. He determined quickly that he liked the punk look, detested the hippie look (at least on himself, he did think his grandfather was dashing in his flares), and would not wear polyester if someone paid him to do so. He planned to alter the jeans with chains and rips when he got home, the benefit of magic being that he could repair and re-alter his clothes as many times as he liked. His beloved Doc Martens were still functional and fit, thank Merlin, but he wanted more casual shoes, so picked up a pair of low rise canvas shoes in a checkerboard pattern that he thought looked good.

Sirius and James were having a ball looking up cheeky tee shirts, and giggling over them. They decided to get a large collection of them, and wear them around Hogwarts. 

Finally, Harry declared them finished shopping for clothes, and they headed to the bookshop. It was very quaint, with a green painted door and a bay window full of books. The books here were both old and valuable, they didn’t deal in casual fiction or creased paperbacks. Harry quietly whispered to Luna that she should follow Remus around and pick up what he was interested in but didn’t buy. She grinned at him and they spent around an hour happily wandering the shelves. Harry wanted books on muggle chemistry; biology, including genetics; and history, with an especial focus on World War II. Remus had a fondness for philosophy and drama. Sirius and James were bored and pestered Euphemia into taking them for an ice cream across the street. It’s not that they hated learning, it’s just that they didn’t see the appeal in a bunch of dusty old books, especially books that didn’t include magic. 

They eventually finished up, and Remus was presented with all the books he really wanted. He blushed and protested, but accepted them all the same. On their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry saw a somewhat rundown muggle cinema, that was still playing films, several months old. His face lit up in a smile, and he dragged all of them toward the ticket booth. After purchasing six tickets, popcorn and cola for all of them, they settled in to watch Arthur, King of the Britons on his search for a magical cup. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m in a rush and had to hurry through posting this, so I haven’t proofread it as much as I’d like. If you notice any issues, please let me know. :) Thanks, as always, for reading and for the encouragement. I love hearing from folks. We’re getting closer to school days... 
> 
> Next chapter title is from Huey Lewis, “Power of Love”


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